


I'm Gonna Run To You

by EllenOfOz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Christianity, Depressed Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Mutual Pining, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Past Abuse, Pining, Religious Fanaticism, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 48,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz
Summary: It's a new school year at North Lawrence Middle School, and Dean, the English teacher, is ready to fill some new minds. When he meets the new science teacher, Castiel Novak, nervous, awkward and gorgeous, he decides to befriend him.Castiel is just happy to have a new teaching job, away from the secrets of his past. But when an old friend appears in town, he might not be able to hide them for much longer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first long-form Destiel AU! I hope you enjoy it, and please, let me know what you think.
> 
> A big thank you goes to my fellow ficcers for helping me develop this idea and championing it. Love you to bits [CBFirestarter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CBFirestarter/pseuds/CBFirestarter), [WaywardAF67](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardAF67/pseuds/WaywardAF67), [WaywardJenn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardjenn/pseuds/waywardjenn) and [ViperVocals](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ViperVocals/pseuds/ViperVocals)!
> 
> Just a note: While I have tagged Religious fanaticism, this story is not anti-religion. It is, however, anti-hardline-evangelical christianity. I feel that if you're into reading M/M romance, you're unlikely to be upset by this, but consider yourself warned :)
> 
> The tags relating to abuse are not within any of the tagged relationships. Tags may change. 
> 
> Oh, and I promise, there'll be a happy ending ;)

The Impala growls its way out of the driveway in the early sunlight. Dean makes sure the garage door closes behind him, then guns it up the street.

Time for a new year - a new flock of young minds to fill and encourage. Dean should feel energized, but the one coffee he’d downed before leaving is taking its sweet time to infiltrate his bloodstream.

As he pulls into the carpark of North Lawrence Middle School, he notices Charlie’s bike parked in one corner. He smiles to himself as he pulls up next to it, thinking how nice it’ll be to see his friend again after several weeks.

He looks around at the empty carpark, pleased that he forced himself out of bed early to have some space before the rush of the first day of school. He walks inside the school building and down the corridor, finding the staff room lights on and the sweet, sweet sound of the coffee machine percolating.

“Dean!” The red-haired dynamo of Charlie Bradbury jumps up and launches at Dean, punching him on the arm, hard. “Don't you ever answer texts?”

“Ow! I was going to see you today anyway, Charlie. And good morning to you, too.”

Charlie rolls her eyes, saying, “Get some coffee in you, jeez.” Charlie sits back down at the table while Dean goes to pour himself a cup. He heaps some sugar into the mug and stirs briefly.

“So, how was Sam? And freaking New York? Tell me everything.”

Dean spent the last few weeks of the summer vacation with his brother. Sam works for a firm of lawyers in New York City, and Dean had jumped at the chance to catch up with him and his new girlfriend, Eileen. What he hadn't counted on, though, was a) his fear of flying, and b) his massive dislike of large crowds.

He isn't about to admit that to Charlie, though. Instead, he sits down, takes a sip of his coffee, and says, “Yeah, it's a city.”

“Hey!” Charlie protests, aiming a kick under the table. “Details!”

“All right, all right!” Dean says, grinning. “Hmm, let's see.”

Dean had hoped that he could replace the furnace of the Kansas summer with some cooler northern air, but instead had found a sticky, humid torture. The streets smelled, the crowds were oppressive, and the overwhelming number of tourists had made the sights almost impossible to see, and almost impossible to enjoy. But he doesn't tell Charlie any of that.

He tells her about the museums, the Empire State Building, the Trade Centre memorial, the Statue of Liberty and every other cliché landmark he had dragged his brother to.

As they sit there chatting, teachers start to pop in and out of the room. Charlie and Dean wave a good morning to them as they grab their morning coffee and head back out to their rooms.

“One day, I went wandering on my own and got lost. I mean, I had my phone so I found my way back, but I found this tiny bookshop. It was really narrow but it had old books piled up on every surface, and old armchairs here and there. It was awesome!”

“That is awesome,” Charlie agrees with a wistful smile. “I love an old bookshop.”

Dean is about to tell her about the books he'd bought when he notices a man has come into the staff room and is standing awkwardly near the door, eyes on Dean.

Dean stands up and walks a few paces towards the guy, who drops his eyes and looks like he’s about to bolt.

“Hi,” Dean says gently, reaching out a hand. “I'm Dean.”

The man looks at Dean's hand, then reaches out tentatively and shakes it. His hand is warm and soft, and when the man looks up again, Dean is transfixed by blue, blue eyes. Blue, terrified eyes.

“I'm… I’m Castiel. Castiel Novak, the ah, new science teacher?”

Wow, the guy really is nervous. Dean turns on his megawatt smile. “Nice to meet you, Castiel.” Realising he has probably held Castiel’s hand for slightly longer than necessary, he lets go and turns slightly. “This is Charlie. She’s IT. I’m English. I mean, I teach English.” He winces internally. Why was it so hard to form words all of a sudden? Dean attempts to not look flustered, but this new guy is making funny things happen in his chest.

Castiel briefly glances at Charlie, then back at the floor. “Hi. Um, I really should go find my classroom. Nice to… er, nice to meet you.” And with a quick glance back at Dean that shoots a lightning bolt down his spine, Castiel turns and hurries from the room.

Charlie snorts and says, “Wow. First day jitters, or what?”

Dean stares at the empty doorway for a few moments, before turning back to Charlie and grabbing his shoulder bag and mug. “Heh, yeah.” He refills his mug and heads for the door. “Catch you at lunch?”

Charlie calls, “Later.”

~~ ◆ ~~ 

Castiel could kick himself. _Sure, just stand there staring at one of your new colleagues. That’s not creepy at all!_

But the way that guy - _Dean_ \- had been so animated, talking about the bookshop… Castiel doesn’t even know where he was talking about, just that he looked so… _No,_ Castiel tells himself firmly. _You can’t be friends with him. Better to stay away._

Face burning in embarrassment, he takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself before he walks into his new classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

The first week of term goes by in a blur, but by the end of week two it already feels like the summer break never happened.

Dean’s seventh-graders are a quiet group, mostly because this year the school is trying something new and putting high-performers from last year in a special “Advanced English” class. Dean is hoping to encourage some budding writers, _Dead Poets Society_ -style.

The bell rings for lunch break, and the students begin to stand up and shuffle their gear into their bags.

Dean speaks over the hubbub. “Don’t forget, there’s only two weeks until your first essay is due, so do some thinking at least over the weekend, all right? Sally, don’t forget your jacket. See ya, Ben.”

He waves to the last few students and grabs his jacket, locking the classroom behind him as he heads for the cafeteria. He loads up his tray with the usual burger and fries and heads for the table by the window where the teachers usually sit. He can’t see Charlie sitting there yet, but there is someone there - the new science teacher guy.

 _What’s his name again? Starts with C._ Dean tries to remember as he walks towards the table, but as he gets closer he realises that the guy is hunched, staring down at his tray without touching any of the food. He looks so sad, so defeated. Dean’s chest tightens as he wonders what the problem could be.

He looks up as Dean approaches, and a brief flash of surprise and perhaps terror crosses his face before he brightens up into a lopsided smile.

 _Wow, quick mood swing there_. He says, “Mind if I join you?” as he puts his tray down and sits across from the guy.

He drops his blue eyes to his tray and picks up a fry, munching on it carefully.

Looks like he’s going to have to work for it _._ “So, haven’t seen you in here much. You been avoiding us?” He realises too late that sounded kind of mean, so he tries a smile.

“No, not at all!” The guy’s eyes are wide as he looks up at Dean, and so blue! “I usually bring lunch with me and eat it outside, or in the staff room.” He drops his eyes back to his lunch as soon as he finishes speaking.

“Ah, okay.” Dean wonders whether he’s just offended the poor guy. “So, uh… how was your first couple of weeks?” He takes a bite out of his burger.

“Good, thanks. The school is… a little bigger than I’m used to.”

Dean is a little unsettled by the way he keeps his eyes down, pushing a couple of fries around on his plate. He’s obviously shy, and Dean decides to try to draw him out of his shell somehow.

He asks, “Oh? Where were you before?”

Before the other man can answer, he’s interrupted by Charlie, swooping in with her tray. She dumps it on the table and sits down, saying loudly, “Castiel! How’s your first two weeks been?

 _Castiel! Of course_ , Dean thinks, furiously committing the name to memory.

Charlie is still talking at top speed, not letting Castiel get a word in. “God, my tech students are a handful. Eighth grade, yeesh. Think they own the place. Hey, you guys are coming to drinks at the Roadhouse tonight, right?”

Castiel glances from Charlie to Dean with a look of pure panic, so Dean jumps in before he can bolt again.

“Yeah, I'll be there. Give Castiel here some space though, he's still getting used to things. Right?” He raises his eyebrows at Castiel, smiling.

Castiel gives Dean a small, grateful smile, but before he can say anything, Charlie jumps in. “Naw, come on dude, come along and meet some more of the teachers. It'll be fun!” She finally takes a bite of the burger she brought over, effectively silencing herself for a few moments.

Castiel takes a breath, looking like a deer in headlights under Charlie's gaze. “I guess it would be a good opportunity to meet a few more people…” he allows.

Charlie speaks around her mouthful, “Yes! You won't regret it. Six o'clock.”

Castiel nods and stands up. “If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare my next lesson. I'll see you tonight, I suppose.”

Dean smiles again, wondering how long it has been since the science teacher last went out for a drink. He raises a hand in farewell. “See you then.”

Dean watches Castiel take his tray to the collection point and leave the cafeteria without a backwards glance.

Charlie nudges him in the side with her elbow. “He's an odd duck, isn't he?”

“He's shy, Charlie. Don't push him.”

“Hey, even the shy ones are loud once you get drinks into them. C’mon, it's gonna be fun. Don't tell me you're not interested in the guy.”

Dean is burning up with curiosity about Castiel and his nervousness, but he just chuckles. “Just try not to scare him off, okay? I gotta go show my face for recess. I’ll catch you later.”

Charlie waves as he heads out towards the playground.

~~ ◆ ~~ 

It takes Castiel longer than it should go get ready to go out again once he’s home from school. He stops trying to do up his tie and rests his hands on his bathroom counter to stop them shaking.

_It's gonna be fine. These people are friendly. You only moved here a few weeks ago - things will be easier once you know some people._

Castiel tries to talk some sense into himself, but his brain has other ideas. _What if they all hate me? What if I do something to embarrass myself? Dean already thinks I've been avoiding him all week. I should just stay home._

The truth is, he _has_ actually been avoiding Dean all week. Not avoiding him personally, but he just couldn't handle the thought of speaking with the teachers in the cafeteria. The only reason he had gone in there earlier today was because he'd run out of lunch things to bring to school.

And now here he is, getting ready to go out. For social drinks. He represses a full-body shudder and finishes knotting his tie, giving himself a hard look in the mirror as he does it. _You're gonna do this, and you're gonna enjoy it._

Once his shoes are on he gets in the car and drives the short distance to the Roadhouse. Music is blaring from the open windows - Castiel isn't sure what it is, but some kind of classic rock. He tentatively steps into the open front door and nearly steps back out again when he sees the group of teachers standing around a table, drinks in hand. His eyes land on Dean, who is bent over a pool table lining up a shot. Dean's eyes lift and see Castiel standing in the doorway, and he stands up, face lighting up with a bright smile. Cas finds himself unable to breathe for a moment, as he takes in the English teacher's casual grey Henley and jeans.

“Castiel! Come on in.” Dean puts the pool cue on the table and walks over, reaching out a hand.

Castiel remembers to take a breath as he shakes it, and finds himself smiling into green eyes.

Dean claps his other hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and he tries hard not to flinch at the touch. Dean says, “Looking great, man!” then he leans in and says quietly, “but between you and me, this is casual Friday. No need to dress up.” He fingers Castiel’s tie for a moment, and just as Castiel’s face heats and he thinks he may melt away through a crack in the floor, Dean winks and pulls his hand away, waving him over towards the rest of the crowd.

“Come and meet everyone. Guys, this is Castiel, our new Science teacher. Cas, this is Tessa, Charlie you know, Benny, and that's Kevin. And my pool partner here is Garth. He's the student counselor.”

Castiel nods at each of them as they're introduced, then when Dean is finished they all look at Castiel expectantly. He feels his face heating up again. _Say something, idiot._

“Um, hi,” he says, glancing around, then down to the floor.

They all give various greetings then go back to their own conversations. The skinny man Dean introduced as Garth comes over, holding the other pool cue. “So, we done?” he says to Dean, grinning. “Only you ran off so I figured I won.”

“Oh, is that so? That's all right, I'll whoop your ass later. I was just about to ask Cas here what he'd like to drink.” Dean looks at Castiel.

Castiel blinks at him. He hasn't been called Cas since… well, since Bartholomew. His pulse quickens, hearing it on Dean’s tongue. _Oh right, the drink._

“Um, just a beer, please. I'm driving.”

“Sure thing.” Dean nods as he wanders off to the bar.

Garth pats the stool next to where he had sat down. “So you drove? You living out of town or something?”

Castiel's mind goes blank. It seems most of the other teachers have walked here, but he can't exactly say that he had driven so that he had an excuse not to drink much and so he could make a quick getaway.

“No, no, I live over by the school. I just, uh… might need to go. Soon. I mean, I may need to leave early.” _Crap. Why did I say that?_

Dean appears, placing a bottle on the table in front of Castiel. He picks it up and Dean clunks his own bottle against it, saying “cheers” and taking a swig. Castiel finds himself staring into green eyes again and blinks furiously a few times, glancing away while he drinks.

Dean clears his throat. “What's this about having to leave early?”

“Oh, I've just got some grading to do…” Castiel winces internally. _Lame. So lame._ He struggles to keep his breathing even.

Dean laughs, saying, “In week two? Wow, you're workin’ them hard already.”

Castiel shrugs and starts peeling the edge of the label off his beer.

Garth says, “Yeah, sounds like I'll be seeing some of your seniors for stress this year, huh?”

Castiel looked up quickly. “Oh no, I hope not. I'm really not that hard on them - science is fun at this age…” he stops when he realises Garth is grinning at him. _He was joking. Right._

Just then, the big guy (was it Benny?) calls Garth back to the pool table. Garth nods to Dean and Castiel, leaving them alone at the table.

Castiel glances at the man beside him as he takes a swig of beer, taking in the classic profile, two-day stubble and perfect green eyes that are now looking at him. _Oh my god no don’t I cannot breathe…_

He chokes a little on his beer but thankfully manages not to squirt it out of his nose or spray it all over Dean.

Dean looks concerned. “You right there, buddy?”

Castiel drags in a breath and smiles weakly. “Yeah, I'm good.”

“Okay. So, get up to anything fun on the break?”

_Okay, it’s okay, it’s fine. He doesn’t think you’re an idiot. Not yet, anyway. Say something funny..._

“Not really. I was mostly moving to Lawrence.” _Lame._

“Ah.” Dean nods sympathetically. “Well I-” he gestured to himself with his beer, “went to New York City.” He looks smug, like he’s proud of himself.

Castiel is disarmed. He huffs out a laugh and is momentarily glad that Dean has deflected the conversation back to himself. “Oh? And how was the Big Apple?”

“Hot, mostly. Sticky. Full of assholes. But also a lot of fun. My brother lives there, y’see.” He stops to take a drink. “You got any siblings?”

_No no no don’t ask that…_

“Yes. Two brothers. One sister. I haven’t… haven’t seen them for a while.” Castiel takes a deep breath to try to loosen the sudden tightness in his chest. He glances back to Dean. “What does your brother do in New York?”

“He’s a lawyer. Well, I think he’s actually a gopher for the big shot lawyers. But it’s early days.” He looks up suddenly, noticing a new arrival. “Alastair!” he calls. “Come meet our newbie.”

A tall, thin man with a gaunt face saunters over and inspects Castiel.

“Alastair, this is Castiel. Cas, meet Alastair, our head of Phys Ed,” Dean says, getting up from his stool. “I need another beer. Alastair, drink?”

“Yes please, Dean.” Alastair sits on the empty stool by Castiel, peering at him with a look that makes him profoundly uncomfortable. “So what’s your subject, Castiel?” Alastair enunciates each syllable of Castiel’s name like he’s tasting it.

“Um, it’s… it’s Science.” Castiel can feel the rising tightness in his chest, and he tries to stave it off with a deep breath. He glances around to find Dean, but he’s still waiting at the bar.

Alastair nods, thoughtfully. “You new to the area? I could show you around… if you’re interested?” He grins, predatory in the low bar lighting.

Castiel uses every ounce of self-control not to physically recoil from the man. He has to get out of there. Now.

“Uh, that’s okay. I mostly had a good look around after I moved in July. Thanks though… for the offer. Thanks. I just need to go to the bathroom. Be right back.” He manages to get off the stool without falling off, and high-tails it to the bathroom. He locks himself inside a stall and sinks down onto the closed toilet lid, face in his hands.

 _What am I doing here? I don’t belong with these people..._ His breathing was rapid and shallow, and he could feel tears starting to prick at his eyes. _No, no. Don’t cry here. Let’s go._

Once he gets his breathing under control somewhat, he leaves the cubicle and splashes water on his face at the sink. He looks at his stupid face in the mirror for a moment, until he is startled by the door opening. Thankfully it isn’t any of the teachers, but he wipes his face and gets out of there quickly anyway. He heads straight for the door of the Roadhouse without looking around, and it’s only when he’s driven home and turned off his car that he gives in to the tears.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean spends the weekend following the drinks at the Roadhouse helping Charlie to house-hunt. The apartment she has been renting has been sold to a new landlord, who wants to put the rent up, much to Charlie's disgust. 

“If I'm gonna pay that much extra each month, I might as well just buy somewhere, right? Then I can do what I like to the place!” Charlie had said as she sat at their usual table at the cafe near the school. 

“Yeah, but Charlie, owning a place ties you down. I thought you were a free wanderer?” Dean had waved his hand about as he sipped his coffee.

Charlie had considered her answer, before saying, “Well, I kinda like it here now. My job doesn’t suck, and my people are here.” She waved her hand in his direction as she hid her pink-tinged face behind her coffee cup.

Dean had grinned at her, a happy warmth in his chest, then held his tongue for the rest of the day as she went through realtor websites and made him drive her to look at places. 

In the idle parts of the day, when he was waiting for Charlie to finish looking, he had found himself wondering about the blue-eyed science teacher. Castiel had disappeared not long after arriving at the Roadhouse, ducking out without even saying goodbye. Dean wondered if something had happened to upset him. He'd seemed happy enough, though a little nervous. 

Now it's Sunday morning, and he's standing outside what Dean is sure is the most run-down shithole he has ever seen.

Charlie, however, is in love.

“Just look at that porch! And that enormous sycamore over there, it's just charming. Can we go inside?”

“Charlie, I'm not sure it's safe to go inside…”

“Don't be ridiculous, it's fine. Watch that step, there.”

Charlie wanders around the house, exclaiming over this room and that. Dean follows, also charmed, but mentally cataloguing the work that needs to be done to make the place habitable. 

They stand outside the front of the house, while the realtor stood a short distance away, waiting for Charlie's decision. 

Charlie stares wistfully at the house, saying, “Oh, Dean. It's so perfect.”

Dean tries to hold in his snort. “I'm not sure that's the word I'd use…”

“Well sure, it needs work. But with a little care and attention it could be beautiful.”

“Charlie...it has a green bathtub.”

“Bathrooms are easy. Come on, it'll be fun.”

“I'll remember you said that in a year when you're still working on it,” Dean laughs. 

“So you're gonna help me with it, right?”

“Hey, I know cars, not houses. But yes, I'll help.”

Charlie squeals and hugs Dean, then skips over to the realtor to tell her the happy news. 

Dean chuckles and looks over the front of the house again. Yes, with a bit of carpentry and a lick of paint, this old dump might look nice again. 

Charlie bounds back over, beaming from ear to ear. “I'm just gonna go with Julia to sign the papers. Thank you so much for coming with me, Dean. You're a star.” She leans up and kisses him on the cheek, followed by a quick squeeze around the shoulders. 

“All right, Little Miss Sunshine. I'll catch you later.”

Dean leaves Charlie with the realtor and heads off. He realises he’d better do a supply run on the way home if he wants to eat this week. He drives towards Aldi, stifling a yawn. He loves Charlie like the little sister he never wanted, but she can be seriously exhausting when she's excited about something (which is most of the time, actually). 

Charlie had arrived in Lawrence a few years ago, and as soon as Dean had met her at school, she had decided to be his best friend. He had been going through a rough patch at the time. Sam had moved to college, Uncle Bobby had recently passed away and Dean was recovering from a messy break-up, but Charlie had brought the sunshine with her, along with an irresistible nerdiness that Dean immediately clicked with. 

If there's one thing Charlie is good at, it's talking Dean into helping her with just about any new project. So far they had tackled LARP-ing (which they both loved), learning French (Charlie has a gift for languages, Dean can barely order a coffee), and an early aborted effort to learn the guitar (Charlie doesn't have the attention span for practice, but Dean enjoyed it and still plays now and then). 

He wonders whether he should try to befriend Castiel the way that Charlie had with him. He had looked like he could use a friend. 

He taps on the steering wheel as he drives along, humming along with his Styx tape. It sounds like he's about to spend the next indeterminate amount of time getting better at renovations. At least Charlie will have to live in the place so there'll be some motivation to finish it. 

He parks at the supermarket and is just pushing his cart in the front entrance when whom should he see, but the science guy himself, Castiel. He looks rough, like he just got out of bed, shadows under his blue eyes. But damn, doesn’t he just want to run his fingers through that bed hair. He clears his throat to try to clear his head, and wanders over, waving.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel spends the weekend after the drinks at the Roadhouse curled up on his sofa under a blanket, re-watching  _Firefly_. He cannot bring himself to get out of his pajamas, so he doesn't bother. 

Once  _ Serenity _ finishes, he looks around at the debris of chip packets and soda cans, and realises the cereal box next to him on the couch is empty. Damn, he's going to have to go pick up some groceries, or he won't be eating this week. 

It takes him two full hours and an episode of  _ Flash _ to convince himself to get off the couch. The idea of leaving his comfy, warm couch-nest for the terrors of the outside world makes his chest ache, but when his stomach rumbles loudly, he throws on some old sweats and goes out to the car. 

_ Come on, let's go. _ He sits in the car, the memory of Friday night ambushing him. He’s never going to make friends here if he keeps running away, he knows that. He rests his head on the steering wheel and tries to swallow down his embarrassment, then looks up and resolutely starts the car. Just a quick trip to the supermarket - in and out. He'll be back in front of Netflix in no time. 

Of course, Castiel can't ever catch a break. The universe is definitely out to get him, because as soon as he gets inside the shop and puts a few things in his basket, the green-eyed English teacher pushes a cart through the doors. 

Castiel considers dumping his basket and fleeing, but Dean has already seen him, a huge grin lighting his face up like the sunrise. 

Too late to run now. Fighting down the impulse, he tries for a smile. 

Dean raises a hand in greeting as he comes over. “Hey, Cas! How's your weekend going?”

That nickname again… Cas flinches slightly but finds himself unable to look away from Dean. He really is an extraordinarily beautiful man, especially with that smile. But no. He pushes those thoughts away. 

He looks away, his face heating. “It's been quiet, mostly.”

“Okay. Just, when you disappeared on Friday I was worried something was wrong…”

Castiel looks up, eyes wide. Dean was worried about him?

“No, no… I just needed to, um... Well I, ah... I got all my grading done, in the end.”

Dean gives him a skeptical look. “Uh huh. Well that’s good. I’ve been helping Charlie… you remember Charlie?” He continues after Castiel nods at him. “She’s looking for a house, so I’ve been helping her out with that the last couple of days.”

Castiel is grateful that Dean turns the conversation towards himself. He smiles as Dean describes Charlie’s house-hunting process.

“So are you here on your own?” Dean looks around Castiel, as if there might be someone hiding behind him.

Castiel barks out a short laugh. “Yes. I live on my own, so I don’t need to buy much.”

“Hah, that makes two of us.” Dean pushes Cas gently in the shoulder, then steps back, suddenly awkward. “I mean, I also live on my own, but Charlie is basically around at my place all the time anyway, so it’s almost as though I have a roomie, you know?” 

Castiel’s gut drops as he realises what Dean is implying. “Oh, are you and Charlie…?” he asks.

Dean’s eyes widen and he waves his hand, saying, “Oh, no. No no no. Firstly, she’s not into guys, and secondly, no way. She’s like my sister.” He shudders slightly. 

Cas’ heart calms slightly as he nods, unsure what an acceptable response might be. Certainly not  _ Oh, thank goodness. _

“Hey, you know what? You should definitely come over for dinner sometime. With Charlie, of course. I do a mean burger!” Dean looks so enthusiastic, Castiel can’t help but return his grin.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude…”   


“No, c’mon man, it’ll be fun! I’ll let you know when we’re getting together.”

_ Say no, say no. You’ll just make a fool of yourself. _

“I’d like that,” Castiel said, smiling.

“Great.” Dean returned the smile, and their eyes held for a moment. Dean shook himself slightly and recovered with, “Well, I’d better get on with the supply run. I’ll see you tomorrow at school, right?”

Castiel looked down at the floor when Dean had started talking, feeling his face heating again. He looked up and gave a reply, but he couldn’t hear it over the voice in his brain saying over and over:  _ You are in so much trouble. So, so much trouble. _


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel packs up the last of the bunsen burners, locking them inside a cupboard, and grabs his lunch out of his satchel. As he leaves the classroom, he hums quietly to himself. The ninth grade class did a great job with the lab. He's proud of them.

Castiel may be terrible at making friends, but in front of a class full of young minds, his mask goes on and his nerves disappear. He wishes he could do it all the time, but it doesn't seem to work like that with adults.

His warm buzz of happiness evaporates when he sees what's going on in the corridor outside. A couple of the older boys in the class he’s just taught have another kid bailed up in the corner, looming threateningly over him.

Castiel takes in the situation and his blood begins to boil. He immediately starts over to where the group are standing. He’s only been teaching them a few weeks, but he recognizes the troublemakers. “Lucian? Jake? Is there a problem here?”

The older pair turn around suddenly and step back from their victim. Castiel doesn’t know the shorter boy standing against the wall, but he looks relieved at the interruption.

“Sorry, sir, we were just…” the taller boy, Lucian, starts, but Castiel cuts him off.

“Don’t make excuses. Just go to where you’re supposed to be.”

The boys stand, staring at him for a moment.

“Now!” he says forcefully, and the boys scamper away down the hallway. Castiel turns to the younger kid, whose back is still pressed against the wall. “Hey, you okay? What’s your name?”

“Ben. Ben Braeden.” The kid looks terrified.

Castiel tries for a smile to reassure him. “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble. I’m Mr Novak. Do you want to tell me anything about what just happened?” He turns his body, gesturing to the now-empty classroom.

Ben just shakes his head, looking down at the floor.

“Okay. Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Or you can always go and see Garth, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Ben says in a small voice. “Thanks.” He follows the other kids away down the hall towards the cafeteria.

Castiel sighs out a breath, remembering his own unpleasant school life. He grips his lunch bag and heads out into the sunshine.

He walks away from the school building, but stops when he hears someone call out, “Castiel? Wait up.” He turns and his heart jumps into his throat as he sees Dean jogging slightly to catch up to him.

“Hey, Cas. How’re you doing?”

Castiel certainly isn’t expecting to see Dean out here - he usually eats in the cafeteria with the other teachers. _Stay on target - keep him at a distance._ He replies, shortly, “Hello, Dean. I’m fine, thanks.”

“Where are you off to? Going to eat lunch?” Dean is nothing if not persistent.

“Yeah, I have a spot that’s away from the playgrounds where I like to sit.”

“Oh, nice. Mind if I join you?” Dean smiles hopefully.

Castiel looks at him, unsure why he would want to do that. He still barely knows the guy, and surely after the shopping trip the previous weekend, Dean must think him even more of a weird loser. He also isn’t sure if he wants to give up his lunchtime hiding spot, but he realizes he actually wouldn’t mind the company today.

“Sure,” he says, and turns to walk across the lawn towards a path leading between two planted gardens.

Dean chats as they walk along. “I saw you handle that situation with Ben and the older kids back there. Nice work, man.”

He had seen that? Had he followed him out here just to tell him? Castiel is baffled. “Oh, I don’t think it was much. Those boys are shit-stirrers.”

“I’m not so sure. Ben’s a smart kid. Quiet too. He’s in my advanced English class - I’ll keep an eye on him.” Dean looks thoughtful when Castiel glances at him.

They round a corner to see a bench seat in a curve of garden, backed by some green bushes and overlooking the lawns on one side of the school grounds.

“Here we are,” Castiel says, sitting down on one end of the bench.

Dean follows, putting a wrapped sandwich beside him while he pulls a bottle of Coke out of his pocket. “Nice spot! How’d you even find this?”

“I went for a walk around the school one day in the first week. The kids don’t tend to come out here.”

“Awesome. Peace and quiet. I tell ya, my classes have been feral this week. Is it a full moon or something?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, saying, “Does that really make a difference?”

“You’d be surprised. How’re your lot treating you, anyway? You settling in okay?” Dean takes a bite of his sandwich.

Castiel opens his plastic container and mixes the pasta leftovers around with a fork. “Yes, thank you. I’m getting used to the older children and their quirks.”

“Oh, you taught younger ones before?”

Castiel winces at the slip-up. He was supposed to be steering clear of the past. He considers how much to share.

“I taught at an elementary school... back in Utah.”

“Utah, huh? Before you moved here?”

“Yes.” Castiel casts around for a way to deflect the conversation. “Have you always taught here?” He shovels some pasta in to prevent himself from saying any more.

Dean takes a swig of his drink before answering. “I was over in Missouri for a while after college, but I missed Lawrence, you know? I grew up here, went to this school, my mom lives here… I transferred the first chance I got. There's no place like home, I guess” he says, laughing.

Castiel smiles, despite himself. How true that statement was. How ironic.

They sit for a while, Dean telling stories about his childhood in Lawrence. Castiel is fascinated to hear what Dean used to get up to. His own upbringing had been so much more sheltered, structured. He couldn't imagine being so free.

A ringing brings them both to their feet.

“Shit, the bell. Time flies, eh?” Dean picks up his trash, smiling.

Castiel returns the smile, picking up his own gear.

They head back towards the school. “Next time you're gonna have to tell me stories about Utah, right? I bet you had some crazies out there.”

Castiel laughs quietly. “A few, yeah.”

Next time? He doubts there would be a next time. He had barely said a word, just sat there trying so hard to ignore the fact that he was enjoying himself. He can't allow himself to get close to Dean. He just can't.

Dean claps him on the shoulder as they part ways. “Thanks for letting me join you, man. I'll catch you later.”

“Bye. Have a good afternoon.” Castiel smiles, then tries to put the English teacher out of his mind as he walks back towards his classroom.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Next time, as it turns out, isn't until the following week.

Dean has been busy all week organising a short story competition for the school, and has barely had time for lunch the last few days, but Charlie has been hooking him up with cafeteria food when she realises he's missing.

He's been hoping for another opportunity to sit with Castiel to eat. He'd really enjoyed that pretty spot in the gardens, and there’s something about the science teacher that Dean feels drawn to. He's quiet, sure, but he feels comfortable with him, like they're old friends already. Which is ridiculous because they've only known each other a few weeks.

Also, he had to admit, the way Castiel had burned those bullies in the corridor last week, eyes flashing? That was _hot_. It's been a while since Dean has found a guy so attractive without even knowing him, but Cas is definitely pressing a few buttons.

Apart from that, there's a vulnerability to the guy that Dean is drawn to, almost like he wants to scoop him up and put him in his pocket. He mentally chides himself, _For God's sake, Winchester, he's a grown man._ Still, he'll keep trying to be his friend until Cas tells him to go away. If he ever gets a chance to get away from his desk and see him again, that is.

Dean sighs as he stares at the poster design on his laptop. The competition is opening in a week and he still has to get all this marketing stuff printed and up around the school well before then. He's good with words, not this visual design stuff.

A quiet knock sounds at the door. Dean looks up in surprise - Charlie never knocks, so it must be a student.

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin when Castiel’s head peeks around the door, followed by the rest of him.

“Cas! Hey, buddy, how're you doing?”

“Hello, Dean.” Cas holds out the plastic box in his hand. “Charlie asked me to bring this to you,” he says, standing awkwardly by the door.

Dean stands up, stretching his arms above his head with a grunt. “Thanks, man. I could use a break, actually. Are you heading outside?” Dean can see Cas’ lunch bag in his hand.

Castiel hesitates, eyes wide at the flash of skin Dean shows while stretching. _Hmm, interesting._

“Uh… Actually I already ate. I'm heading back in. I just caught Charlie on my way past the cafeteria.”

“Oh. Well, tomorrow I'll need the fresh air, so I'll come find you.” He takes the lunch from Cas. Poor guy looks kind of nervous, so he adds, “That okay?”

“Of course,” Castiel replies, nodding again. “I'll see you then.” He turns and heads towards the door, and Dean quickly casts about for something to keep him in the room.

“Hang on a sec, Cas. Reckon you could help me with something?” he asks as he sits back down at his desk.

Castiel turns around just as he's about to walk out the door. “I can try. What is it?”

“It's just, I've been working on this poster for hours and I can't get it right.”

Dean gestures to the laptop in front of him and Cas comes over to look at the screen. He looks thoughtfully at it for a few moments, head cocked to one side, then says, “Do you really need all that text?”

Dean looks back at the image and blinks a few times. “Well, yeah. That's the details for the comp.” He looks back up at Cas in confusion.

“There's too much clutter. It makes the main message difficult to read.” Cas reaches for the mouse, but hesitates, glancing at Dean. “May I?”

Dean moves his chair sideways, letting Cas take control. This close, he admires the man's long fingers as he moves the mouse around, moving and deleting text. _Hang on, deleting?_ Dean takes a breath in to protest but is hit with Castiel’s ocean-storm scent. Momentarily dazzled, he is surprised by Cas leaning into his space to type something. A few more clicks and he stands back.

“How about this?” he says, cautiously.

Dean squints at the screen, willing his scrambled brain to make sense of what he was seeing. The poster was clean and legible, with the monetary prize in big font and a note to contact Mr Winchester for more information.

“Huh,” was all Dean manages to start with. He clears his throat. “Well yeah, that'll work. Thanks, Cas.” He grins up at him, once again struck by the blue of Cas’ eyes.

Cas smiles back, murmuring, “You're welcome.” Then he ducks away quickly, clearing his own throat as he heads back for the door. “I'd better get back to my classroom. Big lab for my ninth-grade class coming up. I'll see you later.”

Dean barely has time to wave and say goodbye when Cas disappears, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He sits, staring at the new poster for a few moments. _Fuck_. _What just happened? Am I suddenly sixteen?_ But he’s not imagining things, right? Cas had been looking at his bared stomach, hadn't he?

 _Seriously, class is in a few minutes._ The last thing he needs to be is half-hard right now. He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs and tries to tell himself to get a grip.

That doesn't stop him from looking forward to the next day's lunch break all afternoon, though.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel and Dean meet up the next day for lunch, and pass a half-hour in the sunshine trading stories about their classes.

The following day is overcast and threatening rain, so Cas sits with Dean and Charlie in the cafeteria. Over the next couple of weeks, he finds himself looking forward to spending the lunch breaks with his new friends, although he's very careful to avoid any mention of Utah or his life there.

One sunny lunchtime, they're joined by Charlie out in the gardens. The bench isn't really long enough for three, but the grass is slightly damp so they squeeze in, Charlie in the middle.

A cool breeze plays across the grass as they sit and eat. Fall is progressing, and Castiel finds himself sad that it will soon be too cold to sit out here.

Charlie takes a drink and says, “So then the guy nearly drops my TV. I mean seriously, it's his job to carry TVs without dropping them. At least I thought to move my tech gear myself. Who knows what else they might have broken!”

Dean manages to get a word in. “Charlie, did they actually break any of your stuff?”

“Well, no. But there were a couple of close calls! I should have just got you two to help me.”

Castiel shares a look and a small smile with Dean that says, _Thank God she didn't._

Castiel asks, “Why are you moving your stuff anyway? Aren't you going to renovate?”

“Well, yes, but the lease on my rental is almost up, so I've gotta put my furniture somewhere, don't I? You guys will help me move it around, right? Oh god, I just realised how that sounded.”

Dean and Castiel both laugh, and Cas is struck by the pure sound. He glances at Dean in surprise and is rewarded with a smile that sends electricity straight down his spine. Cas feels his face heat up, and he looks away in alarm.

Why is he doing this to himself? It's so dangerous, but he can't help himself. He enjoys seeing both Dean and Charlie every day - it just happens to be terribly unfair that one of them is so… so…

“Perfect!” Dean says, smiling. Castiel looks at him in disbelief, then realises that Charlie must have said something that he missed.

“Cas? You in?” Charlie says, looking at him.

He blinks. “Um, y-yes, sure.” He wonders what he's just agreed to.

“Great! Well the assembly finishes a little early so we've got time to go home and grab stuff, then meet back at your place about six?” She looked back at Dean.

Oh, the awards assembly next week. And dinner? Castiel had been planning to turn down the offer of a meal at Dean's if it came, but it seems he has unwittingly agreed to it anyway. Damn.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean gets up, grabbing his things. “Bell's about to ring. C’mon.”

Charlie jumps up, saying, “Later, bitches!” She heads off towards the school.

Castiel busily packs up his lunch, zipping up the bag, then startles as he finds a hand in front of his face. He looks up. It's Dean's hand. Fingers wiggling in front of his face.

“C’mon man, let's go!” Dean is grinning his stupid, beautiful grin.

Cas is fairly sure he's about to find out what heart failure feels like, but he puts his hand in Dean's and lets him pull him to his feet.

“Thanks,” he smiles, then drops Dean's hand, realising he's held it a little too long.

“Don't mention it.” Dean says with a soft smile, and they turn back to the school building.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

The school award assembly is held once a month, to honor students for various achievements.

Dean watches as the classes file in and sit down in their rows on the floor. He gives Charlie a wave as he sees her in the back.

The Principal, Mr Shurley, gives a long and less-than-inspiring speech about achievement and some other stuff Dean doesn’t particularly listen to. His voice is quiet and gentle - not really made for grand public speaking, but he wraps up before Dean can nod off and lets the Vice-Principal take over for the awards.

Benny takes the stage and owns the microphone, calling up several students to be presented with their awards. Even though his voice is also soft, he has a commanding presence that makes him easy to listen to.

“And now,” Mr Lafitte says, “I'd like to invite Mr Winchester to present the winners of the short story competition with their prizes.”

That's his cue. He stands up and walks up the stairs into the stage, smiling at the applause and pointing finger guns at his senior class, who are cheering.

He steps up to the microphone. “Thanks, Mr Lafitte. Firstly, I'd like to thank all of you who entered the competition. We had some brilliant entries, some, not so brilliant…”

A scattered laugh moves through the crowd. In fact, out of the whole school there had only been ten entries, but he didn't need to let anyone know that. Trying to get kids to write these days is like getting blood out of a stone, so Dean’s counting this as a win.

“But I'd like to give my sincere congratulations to our winners. Firstly, the runner-up prize, for her story ‘Time for a Wedding’, goes to Becky Rosen!”

Becky squeals and bounces up to the stage, shaking Dean’s hand with enthusiasm. Her story had been a mess of tropes and dubious consent, but at least her grammar and punctuation had been flawless. At least she was writing.

Dean smiles and extricates his hand, giving her the prize and moving back to the microphone.

“And secondly, for his story, ‘Bloody Mary’, first prize goes to Ben Braeden! Congratulations, Ben.”

The students applaud politely while Ben comes up to the stage and shakes Dean's hand. He murmurs his congratulations and gives Ben a wink along with the prize envelope, and Ben smiles at him. Dean motions for him to go shake Benny's hand.

“Once again, thanks to all the entrants. We'll be holding another competition early next year, so get your ideas ready. Thanks.”

He steps down from the stage amid more applause, and takes his seat at the side of the hall, letting out a relieved breath. He’s fine in front of a class, but speaking to the whole school is still nerve-wracking.

The assembly doesn't last for much longer, with Benny wrapping things up and wishing them an enjoyable week off.

The students start to stand and move out of the hall, and Dean thanks Benny, moving to follow them. He catches Castiel’s eye as he's waiting to leave with his class, and warmth creeps over his skin as they share a smile.

He starts to wander over there, but someone walks into his line of sight. He's about to look around her when he realises she's smiling at him - coming towards him. Tall, lithe, dark brown hair and pretty eyes - Dean smiles back and wonders what he did to deserve this attention.

The woman puts out her hand for him to take. “Hi, Mr Winchester? I'm Lisa, Ben's mom.”

“Oh, hi! Please, call me Dean.” He looks back past her to ask Cas to wait a moment, but he’s already gone.

Ben runs up, smiling ear to ear. “Look Mom!” he says, waving the prize envelope at her.

“I know! Well done, baby,” she says, putting her arm around his shoulder and kissing the top of his head.

“Mooom!” Ben protests, ducking away from her arm.

Dean smiles at the scene. “You should be very proud. Ben's got a great talent for storytelling, even if they are a little scary,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I am! I'm just glad I could be here today. Thanks for your email.”

Dean nods. “That's great you could make it. It's a shame Mr Braeden couldn't be here too…”

“Oh no, Ben's dad… doesn't live around here,” Lisa cuts in, looking uncomfortable.

Dean mentally curses himself. “Oh, I'm sorry. Anyway, congratulations again, Ben. I'll be looking forward to seeing your next creation.”

Ben doesn't say anything, just smiles and nods. Lisa smiles too, showing her perfect, white teeth. “Lovely to meet you! We'll see you next time.”

Dean walks away, wincing. _Nice move, Winchester,_ he muses _, mentioning the absent dad. She was a nice lady, though._ _And hot. Never would have picked Ben to have such a hot mom._ He chides himself on such inappropriate thoughts and heads for his classroom to get ready to go home. He has a dinner to prepare.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

“So then she ties him to the bed to stop him from escaping when the drug wears off, and the demon starts calling in his deals. She manages to stab one demon in the back and the other guy is taken back to Hell by the king,” Dean says, pausing to take a swig of his beer.

He, Charlie and Cas are sitting around the living room, digesting their dinner of homemade burgers and fries, followed by Dean’s signature apple pie. He had outdone himself, he thought.

“The king?” Cas asks, looking baffled.

“Yeah, the king of Hell, naturally. So then, with no love potion left, the guy wakes up and forces her to get an annulment. The end.”

Charlie is laughing so hard she nearly drops her beer. “And that’s seriously better than all the other stories that were entered?”

“Well, some of the others were great stories, but Becky’s was actually the best written. Like with all of her semicolons correctly placed ‘n stuff.”

Cas lets out a laugh at that from where he slumps on the floor against the front of an armchair. Seriously, Dean loves it when Cas laughs - his whole face lights up. When he’d showed up at Dean’s front door, he’d had to catch his breath as he took in the dark blue sweater, the bright, smiling blue eyes, the artfully dishevelled hair.

He hasn't been able to get the guy out of his head for weeks now, especially since they started spending their lunch times together when they were able to. Cas still seems reluctant to share anything personal, apart from random stories about school in Utah. He won’t say anything about his family or his life there, and Dean’s dying to know, but doesn’t want to push him unless he wants to share.

“Seriously, thank fuck for the weekend.”

“Amen to that,” Charlie says, holding her beer bottle out for him to clink against.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to my students not trying to set themselves on fire for a couple of days,” Cas adds.

“What?” Charlie and Dean echo each other.

“I still don’t know what he was doing with the gas burner,” he says, laughing, “I just turned around and there was this whoomph, and Mike was screaming. His eyebrows were the only victim, luckily.”

Dean is horrified. “He’s lucky he didn’t lose an eye or two!”

“That’s what I told him!” Cas says, laughing again.

“Hey, don’t be too harsh, I nearly burned my hair off one Thanksgiving in a candle incident I’d rather not relate.” Charlie drains the last of her beer and adds the empty bottle to the collection on the coffee table.

“Hey, what are y'all doing for Thanksgiving this year?” Dean had always loved Thanksgiving at home with his family, but with Sammy away it was just he and mom these days. Suddenly the idea of spending it with his best friends sounds like a brilliant plan.

“I’ll be here, as usual. No family for me to see,” Charlie says with false cheer.

“Cas?”

“I… hadn’t really thought about it.” Cas looks suddenly sad, and Dean feels bad about bringing up obviously difficult memories for both of them.

He tries to lighten the mood. “Well, why don’t we all have it here? I’ve never cooked a turkey myself before but seriously, how hard could it be?”

“Famous last words,” Cas chuckles.

“Hey, you’ve experienced my cooking now, don’t knock it.”

“Oh, I might be willing to put my life into your hands,” Cas says, smiling.

“Yeah, that sounds nice!” Charlie agrees.

Dean claps his hands. “Excellent. Let’s do that, then. My mom might be here, fair warning.”

“That’s fine, your mom cooks better than you do.” Charlie yawns suddenly and stands up, saying, “I’m gonna have to go, or I’ll fall asleep on the way home. Thanks for the feed, Deano.” She ruffles his hair and he bats her away half-heartedly.

He stands up and hugs her. “Any time, kid. I’ll see you on Sunday for DIY dramas, right?”

Charlie groans as she reaches down to give Cas a hug around the shoulders. “Oh yeah, it’s all starting, isn’t it?”

“Hey, don’t complain now. You’re the one who wanted to buy a dumpster to live in!” Dean laughs.

“See you, Charlie,” Cas says, smiling. He gets to his feet as well. “I should also get home. It’s getting late.”

“Aw, everyone leaving so soon? Could one of you hang back to help me with the dishes?” Dean smiles hopefully.

“That’s gonna have to be you, Cas. I can barely keep my eyes open.” Charlie heads out the front door with a wave.

Cas looks surprised, but nods. “Sure, I can do that.”

Dean calls out a goodbye to Charlie, then heads into the kitchen to see Cas looking around, confused.

“It’s okay, I put everything in the dishwasher earlier,” he says, grinning. “I just wanted you to hang around a little longer.”

“Really? You could have just asked,” Cas says with a nervous laugh. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not wrong.” Dean moves a little closer to Cas. _It’s right. It’s so right. It’s now or never._ ”I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been enjoying spending time with you.”

“I have too, Dean,” Castiel hedges, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

Dean moves closer - as close as he dares. “And I just, well… I wondered, if you…?” He trails his fingers up Cas’ arm, then places his palm on Cas’ cheek. He strokes gently with his thumb, giving him a chance to step away, but Cas’ eyelids just flutter shut and he takes a hitching breath in. Dean moves in, their faces so close. Dean’s lips barely brush Cas’, the faintest touch, and Cas lets out a breathy gasp that flies straight to Dean’s core. Then Cas opens his eyes, looking horrified, and pulls back.

“No,” he says. “No, no, no. I’m sorry.” His voice breaks and he looks devastated. Are those tears he’s blinking away?

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean to… Cas? Are you okay?” Dean steps back but hovers, worried.

“I… I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Cas won’t look at him, his face turned to the floor. He leaves the kitchen and grabs his shoes from where he left them near the door.

“Cas? Please, wait. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry, okay? Please talk to me!” Dean watches as Cas shoves his feet into his shoes and hurries out the front door, closing it gently behind him.

Dean stands in his the entrance hall, a cold feeling in his stomach and the bitter taste of rejection in his mouth. “Well that could have gone better,” he mutters.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel rolls over, burying his face under his pillow. The sun is personally offending him as it shines gently through the cracks between curtains.

He should never have agreed to the dinner in the first place. Yes, he's been loving the time spent with Dean and Charlie, but in the last few weeks Dean has been more attentive, sharing smiles and long glances with him, touching his shoulder or hand. It's been torture, but Cas has loved every minute of it.

He hadn't even known if Dean was into guys, anyway. He'd considered that he might just be naturally flirty, especially since he saw how Dean had greeted that woman at the assembly with a smile. Ben's mom, he guesses.

Well, now he knows better. And that simultaneously makes him want to run away across the country, and also to run right back into Dean's arms.

He groans again as the kiss looms in his mind. It had been so gentle, yet so electrifying. He’d wanted to grab Dean and push him against the cabinet to kiss him back, but instead he’d run away. What was he going to say when he saw him next? He pushes his face into the mattress, cursing himself for an idiot.

He’s going to have to apologize, and make it clear he’s not interested. Even if he desperately is… But no. Dean is an amazing man - he deserves someone a lot less fucked up than Castiel. He messed up again, plain and simple. He’s a shitty friend, and a pathetic piece of crap.

He briefly considers getting out of bed, but what would be the point? So he doesn’t.

Somehow the day passes into afternoon and Castiel is starting to get a little bored with lying around wishing the ground would swallow him. He drags himself out of his bedroom and huddles on the couch, lining up some Netflix.

He doesn’t bother going to bed that night, but passes out on the couch halfway through _The Princess Bride_.

When gray light in the window wakes him up again, he feels a little less like death, and more like he needs to eat something. He remembers that he had agreed to go and help Charlie today with her kitchen, but he dreaded the idea of facing her and Dean so soon. He pulls out his phone.

Castiel: Charlie, I’m not feeling well. Might just stay home today, sorry!

Charlie: No probs. Hope ur feeling better soon <3

The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirks a little at the message. At least he hasn't managed to burn his bridges with Charlie yet.

The kitchen is annoyingly empty. Castiel considers going to find food, but the tightness in his chest is more crushing than his hunger, so he heads back to the couch.

He wonders with a jolt if Dean would confide the events of last night to Charlie. He might - they are always pretty tight. He can't bear the thought of the two of them discussing him, and he buries his head under pillows again with a grunt.

It isn't long before his stomach is protesting his decision not to eat. “Get up, you useless fool,” he mutters. He drags himself into jeans and a t-shirt, grabbing his brown jacket as he heads out, not really sure where he's heading.

Outside, a gray sky hangs low, muting the world. The apartment blocks along his street are quiet. Castiel guesses that no one wants to be out and about with this chill breeze blowing, and he lifts the collar of his jacket, wishing he'd grabbed a scarf.

At the end of the road, a corner store skulks beneath a tall ash with yellow leaves. Next to the store is a bright café, cosy windows framed with green curtains. Castiel considers the store, but his eyes are drawn to the café. Oh, why not? Might as well attempt to cheer himself up with a café breakfast.

He steps up to the door of the café and enters, sighing at the warm air meeting his face. He takes two steps towards the counter, and hears, “Cas?”

Castiel’s stomach drops. _No. No no no. Fuck, no_.

He turns, clenching a fist, to see Dean, sitting at a table by the window. The light falls softly on his face, illuminating his green eyes, wide with surprise.

_So unfair._

He's aware of Charlie jumping up. “Cas! What're you doing here? I thought you weren't well?”

_So. Unfair._

Dean gives Castiel an apologetic smile, and that does not stop the floor from shifting under Castiel’s feet. He shuffles a few steps towards them and looks at Charlie - if he looks at Dean any longer, he may collapse. Charlie steps forward to hug him.

“I'm, er, well… I'm not well. I just… needed to eat something.” He sounds like such a loser. He idly wishes for a crack in the earth to fall into.

Dean clears his throat and says, “Sorry to say, dude, but you look like hell.”

Castiel huffs a laugh that comes out like more of a manic squeak. “Thanks.”

“Come on, join us. We've only just ordered.”

Castiel recoils slightly in horror, but tries to keep his features as polite as he can. “Oh, no, thank you, but I'm… really not...”

“Cas, please,” Dean says, pushing the third chair out for him, his pleading eyes almost more than Castiel can bear.

He's gonna regret this.

“Well, okay then. If you're sure.” He sits in the chair, facing towards the window. Outside, the grey sky has lifted somewhat, and the world carries on, while inside Castiel feels like he’s about to break into pieces from the tension.

Charlie, however, is under no such pressure. “Awesome! The more the merrier. Now you can help me choose some countertops, too!”

Castiel suddenly becomes aware of brochures and colour swatches all over the table. Charlie starts to fan them out, arranging them across the tablecloth.

“Uh, sure.” He glances at Dean, who rolls his eyes slightly, grinning.

Charlie talks them through her ideas for the kitchen. At some stage someone comes to take Castiel’s order, and they end up with coffees and eventually breakfast, but Castiel is only half-present. He's hyper-aware of Dean's knee an inch from his own, and tries desperately not to keep glancing in his direction. Dean himself keeps shifting around, nervous perhaps, or indigestion, Castiel has no idea because he's definitely _not looking_.

Eventually Charlie is satisfied with the plans and packs up her samples. “Just gonna visit the ladies before we go,” she says, standing. “Be right back.”

Once she's gone, the tension ratchets up. Cas stares at the green check pattern on the tablecloth, hearing Dean shift beside him.

“Listen, about the other night--” Dean begins, but Castiel cuts him off.

“I'd rather not talk about it, if that's okay.” He carefully doesn't look at Dean while speaking, playing with a sugar packet on the table.

“Uh, okay. But… d’you reckon maybe… maybe we could start over? Y’know, as friends?”

At that, Castiel does look up at him, briefly. Dean looks earnest, and sad, and a little bit nervous, perhaps.

Castiel takes a moment to think. This is a really bad idea, but he would miss the two of them so badly if he said no. He may fuck things up eventually, but right now, they still want him to be their friend.

“Okay. Yes, I'd like that.”

He jumps as Dean lightly touches his arm.

“Thanks, Cas.”

Charlie reappears. “Are you two just gonna sit around all day? Come on, Home Depot isn't going to build my kitchen for me! Actually, do you think they would? That would be so cool if we could just sit around and drink coffee while someone else did the work…”

Castiel smiles faintly as they leave the café and walk towards Charlie's.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Over the next few weekends, Dean and Castiel spend time helping Charlie renovate her kitchen.

Dean had found the first week uncomfortable, with Cas avoiding speaking to him if he could help it. He didn't blame the guy - if he had been straight and a gay friend had tried it on with him, he supposed he might be upset, too.

Dean still isn't sure he's been imagining the attraction between them - they've definitely shared moments that were more than friendly glances. But hey, Cas had shut him down, and he'll respect that. He's weird and dorky, but he's also sweet and funny ( _and gorgeous,_ his traitorous mind adds). And after he'd walked into the café that Sunday, complete with dark circles and his own personal rain cloud, he'd looked like he could really use some friends.

Once Charlie chooses the design for her new kitchen, they spend the following weekend gutting the existing cabinets and sink. Benny had said he'd lend them his truck to take the discarded chipboard and plastic away, so they just pile it up on the sidewalk.

The weeks in between fall back into an easy rhythm, with the three of them sharing lunchtimes when they can. As Halloween comes and goes, the weather starts to close in and they spend more lunchtimes in the cafeteria. Dean is pleased to find that he is able to spend time in Cas’ company without staring and without all his blood rushing downstairs.

The new kitchen is all off-white cabinets with wooden bench tops, and it has taken them most of this latest weekend to work now how the thing fits together. Turns out Cas is a bit of a genius when it comes to reading assembly instructions. He can just visualize the way the whole thing fits together.

Right now, for instance, he's helping Charlie with the final cabinets to be hung on the wall.

“If you just put the dowels here, they'll line up with the holes on the other side, okay? I'll get the side piece.”

“Have I told you how happy I am you're here, Cas?” Charlie says for perhaps the fifth time, laughing. “Dean and I would have ruined this and probably killed each other by now if it weren't for you!”

Dean laughs, and Cas looks over at him with a nervous grin. “Oh, I don't know about that,” he murmurs.

Dean's pocket vibrates and he pulls out his phone. “Hi, Mom,” he says, getting up to leave the noisy construction site.

“Hi, Mrs Winchester!” Charlie calls happily.

“Hi, Dean. Is that Charlie I hear?” Dean can hear his mom's smile in her voice.

“Yeah, Cas and I are here helping with the kitchen again. We're nearly done, actually.” Dean steps out to the front porch and sits on the step in the late sunshine.

“You're a good friend. Hey, listen, I just wanted to know what was happening for Thanksgiving. It's only a few weeks away, you know.”

“Sure. Well, do you still want to come to my place? I may have accidentally invited Charlie and Cas, as well. They don't have any local family.”

“Cas… Castiel? The teacher you told me about?”

Dean looks back into the house, to make sure the others are still busy. “Yeah,” he says.

“Oh. Are you two… okay, now?”

“Yeah, we sorted it out. We're friends. It's fine.”

“Friends? Oh, Dean. What are you getting into?”

“Nothing! Look, it's not like that, okay? We're fine.” Actually he hadn't been fine, not really. But he didn't want his mom to worry. She'd been worried enough when he'd mentioned the whole misunderstanding in their call last Saturday.

His mom chuckles, saying, “All right. Now do you think you can handle a turkey? Or do you want me to sort that out?”

They chat for a few minutes to arrange logistics, then Dean hangs up with a “love you, Mom.”

Back inside, he finds Cas and Charlie sitting on the kitchen bench, beers in hand.

Charlie grins, waving a hand around. “What d'you think?”

Dean looks around and has to admit, it looks pretty good. “Great job, team.”

Cas holds out a beer to him with a smile, and Dean takes it, clinking the bottles together with Cas first, then Charlie.

He leans on the bench next to where Cas is sitting. Mom doesn't need to worry about him. They’re gonna be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Thanksgiving.


	7. Chapter 7

“Come on, guys,” Castiel says, looking around the classroom.

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving is sending his students to sleep, and it is frustrating him no end.

“We only learned this last week! Someone please tell me what plants need to make energy using photosynthesis.”

The students fidget silently as Castiel looks around at them.

“You know there's a test in two weeks, right? Come on, have a guess. I won't laugh. I might cry, though.”

A few students laugh quietly, and finally someone speaks up. “Sunlight?”

“Yes! Thank you! Was that you, Pamela? Well done - sunlight.” He writes it on the whiteboard, silently thanking fuck that someone has learned something.

“And what else does the plant absorb for photosynthesis to work? Anyone?” He looks around the room at blank stares. “Pamela? You got this?”

Pamela shrugs.

Castiel sighs. “You don't got this. Okay. Since we only have a couple of minutes before the bell, I'm gonna tell you. But you'd better believe that this will be on the test, so I want you to learn it so well that you can tell your family about it over dinner on Thursday, okay?”

He writes the basis of the photosynthetic process on the board, saying, “Carbon dioxide in, water in, oxygen out, and glucose out. Burn this into your memories, please.”

The bell rings, and the ninth graders jump into action.

Castiel calls after them, “Have a great break, everyone!”

“Bye, Mr Novak!”

“See you next week, sir!”

Castiel waves as they leave the room, then wiped his writing off the board. He slumps in his chair, exhausted.

He pulls out his diary and makes a note for next week: _Photosynthesis_. He'd drill the information into their brains somehow.

He's packing away his books when he hears a small knock at the door. Smiling, he looks up, a warm glow in his chest at the thought of seeing Dean before he heads home. But it's not Dean's head that pokes around the door.

“Ben?”

The kid looks uncomfortable, and a little red around the eyes. He shuffles into the classroom, but stops just inside the door. “Sorry, sir, are you on your way out?” he says in a small voice, his hand still on the door handle.

“No, no, it's fine. Come in!” Castiel puts his books in his bag and pulls over another chair for Ben to sit in.

Castiel looks Ben over as he's getting settled in the chair. No obvious injuries, but the poor kid looks despondent, and a little scared.

“How can I help?” he asks.

Ben takes a breath, looking up at Castiel with round eyes. “You said that if I wanted to talk, I could…” Ben gestures around at the classroom.

“I did say that, yes. What’s wrong, Ben? I won't tell anyone else, unless you want me to.” Castiel tries to sound reassuring, but he's terrified that Ben will ask him to do something he's not prepared to do, like confront someone, or speak to the Principal.

Ben hesitates, then says, “Those boys - Jake? And Lucian? That wasn't the first time they picked on me. They've been doing it for months… And… since I won that prize, it's got worse.”

“The story prize? They tease you about your writing?”

Ben nods. “They say only girls write stories. They call me names, say I'm gay. I… I don't want to write any more. Please don't tell Mr Winchester!”

Castiel sighs. “I won't tell him. But Ben, I want you to know that Mr Winchester really loves your writing. He told me he thinks you're very talented.”

Ben looked up, hope kindling in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes. You should definitely keep writing. Write beautiful, amazing things. And one day, when you're a famous writer, you'll be able to laugh at those guys and their teasing.”

Ben has the faintest edges of a smile, but it drops quickly. “But they’ll still pick on me now.”

“Well, I think you should really make a time to go and talk with Garth. That's what he's here for.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Garth makes me talk to a stupid puppet, though.”

“A puppet?” Castiel can't hold in a snort when Ben nodded. “But in the meantime, next time those guys are coming at you, try to ignore them. Do they threaten you physically?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, let's try to stop things before they go further. Do you want me to ask Garth to book a time for you?”

“No… Can I try ignoring them first?”

“Sure. But make sure you talk to someone again if it's worrying you, okay?”

“I will,” Ben says decisively. “Thanks, Mr Novak.”

Castiel gives him a grin. “Anytime. Now, let's get out of here. Are you being picked up?” They stand up and move towards the door of the classroom.

“Yeah, I'd better get out there. See you after the holidays! ” Ben says.

Castiel pats him on the shoulder and smiles. “See ya, Ben.” He waves as Ben runs off down the corridor.

At the end of the corridor, Castiel notices a figure standing there, watching Ben run past. The man steps forward into the fluorescent lighting and Castiel realises it's the PE teacher, Alastair. And he's staring right at Castiel.

Castiel lifts a hand slightly in greeting, then turns and hurries out of the building in the opposite direction. Will that guy ever stop creeping him out?

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

“Thank God you’re here,” Dean says, letting his mom in the front door. He awkwardly shuts it behind her with one gloved hand, wiping the sweat from his brow with the oven mitt.

“Dean! Give me that.” His mom tuts and takes the mitts from him, handing him the bags she carries instead. “What’ve you done?” she added, shedding her coat.

Dean sighs heavily. “The turkey… I think I’ve ruined it!”

“Oh, I’m sure you haven’t. Let me take a look.” Mary heads for the kitchen.

Dean feels a warm happiness in seeing his mom buzzing around. Her standard mom uniform of faded jeans and blue plaid are so familiar to him, and even though her hair has faded from blonde to a light grey, she still looks after him like he's five years old.

She catches him staring and stands upright. “Hey, come over here.” When Dean wandered over, she continues, “It’s just the skin that’s a little crisp. We’ll just turn it down and it can cook a little longer. No problem!”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dean says, hugging her. He misses Sam, suddenly. “You speak to the moose today?” He moves over to the fridge and starts pulling out vegetables to chop up.

“Not today, no.” Mary takes a wrapped dish out of one of her bags, putting it on the bench. “I do like the sound of this Eileen - she sounds nice.”

Dean eyes the dish on the bench. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Apple and pecan, of course.”

Dean’s favourite. His mom always knows the way to his heart. He grabs her and plants a kiss on the side of her head, while she fends him off. He goes back to the chopping board, grinning.

The doorbell rings. Dean holds up the knife he’s using to chop carrots, so his mom heads out with a murmured, “I’ll get it.”

Dean keeps chopping as he hears the door open.

“Hi Mom!”

“Charlie! It’s good to see you, love.”

The two women chatter as they come back into the kitchen and Dean gives Charlie an awkward one-armed hug. He says, “Now out of the kitchen, please. Set the table or something.”

“Charlie, tell me all about what you’ve done so far on the house.” His mom shepherds her out of the room and Dean breathes a sigh of relief, getting the sweet potatoes out to chop as well.

Once he’s put the sweet potatoes in a dish with the pecans and sprinkled brown sugar all over them, he shoves them in the oven under the still-cooking turkey, and grabs a beer out of the fridge. He’s probably done enough preparation now to warrant an alcoholic reward.

The doorbell rings again and Dean heads out of the kitchen, beer in hand. “I’ll get it,” he says to Charlie and his mom, who are sitting on the couch, deep in discussion about bedroom curtains.

Dean wipes his sweaty palm on his jeans before he opens the door. His heart gives a little leap as he sees Castiel standing on the step, in his awful trench coat and sensible shoes.

Cas smiles at him. “Hello, Dean.”

He takes a moment to remind himself that Castiel doesn’t like him like that - they are strictly friends and he really shouldn’t stare into his _friend’s_ eyes like that, then he opens the door wide. “Cas! Come in. Good to see you, buddy.”

Cas sheds his coat and Dean takes it to hang up, noticing that Cas has also brought something in a dish, wrapped against the cold November air. “What’s this?”

“Oh, I, um… brought something. I thought you might like it.” Cas looks so nervous that Dean nearly hugs him right then, but thinks better of it.

“Pie? I always like pie. Come on, the others are in the living room.”

He leads Cas into the house, calling, “Hey Mom, we might have a problem, here.”

His mom stands up from the couch, turning to look at Cas, who looks like a deer in headlights. “Hi, you must be Castiel. I’ve heard so much about you.” Mary smiles at Cas, who has turned a funny shade of grey.

“Er, that’s… good, I think? Nice to meet you, Mrs Winchester.” He reaches out to shake her hand.

She laughs. “Please, Mary.” She turns to Dean. “Did you say something about a problem?”

Dean points to the pie in Cas’ hands. “More pie!”

His mom laughs. “More pie is never a problem. What flavour is yours, Castiel?”

“Apple. Apple and pecan...” Cas stops when Dean and his mom start to laugh, looking around at them, frowning. “Is there actually a problem?”

“We’ll have to have a taste-test! Mine is also apple-pecan.” Mom takes the pie from Cas’ hands. “Would you mind keeping Charlie company for a few moments while I help Dean in the kitchen?”

“Of- of course.” Cas shuffles around the couch and sits down with Charlie, looking slightly shell-shocked.

Dean chuckles and heads back into the kitchen, his mom at his heels. He fusses around, checking the food in the oven and pulling things out of the fridge ready to put on the table. When he glances at his mom, she’s just leaning against the bench, watching him.

“What?” he says, standing up straight.

Mom glances back towards the living room, where Dean can hear Charlie enthusiastically describing paint colors. “He’s cute,” she says quietly.

“Shut up, Mom. I told you, he shot me down. Strictly friends now.” Dean busies himself with a pan to heat up the bean casserole.

He hears his mom make a “hm” sound, then she picks up the plates he’d stacked and left to put them on the dining table.

How does Mom always manage to make him doubt himself? He pushes _those_ thoughts of Cas aside and builds a wall in front of them. That’s that.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Two hours later, Dean, Mom, Charlie and Cas are sitting around the table, plates of half-eaten turkey and other dishes still scattered around the table.

Dean leans back in his chair, patting his very full stomach. He notices his mom check her phone again, for perhaps the fifth time since they started eating. “You expecting a text or something?” he asks her, eyebrows raised.

“What? Oh, no. Just checking the time.” She’s definitely nervous about something. He idly wonders if she’s started dating again without telling him. It’s been a long time now since Dad died - as much as the idea of his mom dating someone squicked him out, he wanted her to be happy.

“Oh no,” he says reflexively, as the thought hits him.

Cas looks at him. “What is it?”

“We forgot to say what we’re thankful for!”

Charlie runs her finger around the edge of her plate and licks the gravy off her fingertip. “Hah, that’s easy. I’m thankful for that delicious dinner!”

There are murmurs of agreement around the table.

“Hmm, let's see.” Mom rubs her knee thoughtfully. She grins suddenly. “I'm thankful that I didn't need my knee replaced.”

“That’ll do,” Dean says, laughing. Mom had injured her knee running earlier in the year. He'd had to drive her around for weeks, so he was also thankful for the lack of surgery. “Well, I'm grateful for my trip to New York to visit Sammy! Speaking of, where is that bitch? He usually calls by now…”

Mom glances at her phone again, muttering something under her breath.

Dean wonders again what's got into her, but then Charlie says, “How about you, Cas?”

Cas flinches as they all turn to look at him, then he stammers, “Well… I… I want to thank you for making me feel so welcome in Lawrence, and for… well, being my friends.” He turns a deeply red face and a shy grin down to the table, as Charlie grabs his arm with an “aww”.

Dean smiles fondly at him. Yes, he was also glad that Cas had come along. The memory of Cas’ rejection stabbed through him again, making him draw a sharp breath. Cas looks up at him in surprise, but before he can say anything, the doorbell rings.

Dean looks up. “Who the hell? On Thanksgiving?” He glances at his mom, who's wearing a small smirk. “Mom? What's going on?”

“Come on,” she says, standing up. Dean follows her out to the front door, and he opens it to find his little brother standing there, along with Eileen and a pile of bags.

“Surprise!” Sam says through his goofy grin.

Dean doesn't reply, just grabs him in a hug. He hasn't realised just how much he's been missing his nerdy little brother until this moment.

Mom grabs them both, pulling them inside where Eileen is already waiting. “Come on, you two! Out of the cold. What took you so long? We already ate!”

“How long have you had this planned?” Dean looks between his mom and brother, before he smiles at Eileen, pulling her into a hug too.

“Oh, a while.” Sam grins as he hugs Mom.

“Come on,” she says, “you must be starving. There’s plenty left.”

Dean stops for a moment as he reenters the living room. Seeing his friends and family - no, they were _all_ his family - all together in one place like this makes him feel warm down to his toes. He leaps forward to make introductions.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel is shaking. He tucks his hands under his thighs, hoping no one else notices, but Charlie jumps up when she heard voices at the door. All it took was the thought of a new person arriving to snap Castiel back into terrified puppy mode. He hates it.

A very tall man comes into the room, followed by a much shorter woman. The man says, “Charlie! How are you?” as he leans down to envelop her in a hug.

Charlie replies, “Hey, Sam. Wasn’t expecting to see you today!”

Castiel also stands up now. So this is Dean’s not-so-little brother. He looks to Dean, who is standing by the door with an odd smile on his face. Dean darts forward and comes around the table to stand next to Castiel.

“Sorry, introductions. Cas, this is my brother, Sam, and his partner, Eileen. Guys, this is my friend from work, Castiel. And Eileen, this is Charlie.”

Charlie waves at Eileen and Castiel is startled by a large hand coming across the table towards him. Sam says, “It’s nice to meet you, Castiel.”

Castiel gulps down his nerves and lifts his hand to shake Sam’s.

Dean must have noticed the trembling, as he puts a reassuring hand on Castiel’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Cas just moved to Lawrence at the start of the school year, but he’s fit right in here with me ‘n’ Charlie, right, Cas?”

Castiel turns to look at Dean, who gives him a ghost of a wink. He thinks he might fall over in a swoon if Dean didn’t still have his hand on his shoulder, so instead he leans into the touch a little, and looks back at Sam, saying, “Yes, I’ve been lucky to find such friendly people here.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, did someone mention food?” Sam looks back towards Mary and everyone springs into action.

Mary goes into the kitchen to fetch food, Charlie arranges extra chairs, and Dean turns to Cas and murmurs into his ear, “You all right, buddy? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Castiel nods. “I’m fine. Thank you. I must have stood up too quickly.”

Dean gives his shoulder one more squeeze, then moves away towards the kitchen as well. “I think what we need is some hard liquor, and pie. In that order.”

While Mary and Dean are busy in the kitchen, Eileen comes to sit next to Castiel. He smiles at her, remembering that she has hearing loss. He waves, uncertainly.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Eileen says with a smile.

Castiel realises he has no idea what to say to her. All he knows about her is that she can’t hear well, and that is hardly dinner conversation. _Say something, you’re looking like an idiot..._

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” she says. Her voice is quiet.

“What is?” he asks, surprised.

She waves her hand around the table. “All this. My parents came from Ireland. They didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. I haven’t done this sort of big family gathering before.”

Castiel laughs lightly, and tries to speak clearly. “You haven’t been missing much. My family gatherings were much bigger than this. This is nice and small, which is fine by me.” Castiel realises that this is more than he has shared about his family in a long while, and Charlie is watching him intently from across the table.

Eileen says, “Well, it must be nice to be able to have a gathering in your new home, right?”

And she’s so right. He loves this - the warmth, the sharing of food, the laughter.

When Eileen gets up to see if she can help in the kitchen, Charlie speaks up. “Cas, what happened? Back in Utah? Why do you look sad when you talk about your family?”

Cas looks at her, surprised. He would normally try to deflect the questions, but the alcohol and a full stomach has loosened his tongue. What's there to lose by telling her? She's a good friend.

He sighs, looking down at the lunch debris on the table. “I haven't been in contact with them for nearly two years. Something happened with the school I was at there… I had to leave. Had to get away from there.”

“Oh? What happened?” Charlie asks, then when she sees the reluctance on his face, adds, “It's okay, you don't have to tell me.”

Before he can reply, Dean and Mary bring out the sliced up pies and make Sam and Eileen try each one and judge which they prefer. Turns out Sam likes Mary’s pie better, while Eileen gave some very unladylike noises at Castiel’s pie, which makes both Sam and Castiel blush a deep pink. Dean loves both of the pies and eats most of them on his own, washed down with whiskey.

To feel like he’s part of a community again has filled a gaping hole in Castiel’s chest that he hadn’t thought would ever heal. When he reluctantly leaves Dean’s place, after hugging everyone and thanking them for the day, he feels the cold air hit him, along with the loss of their company, like a punch to the gut.

And all he can do when he gets home is lie back on his bed and stare at the ceiling as he comes down from the sensory overload, and smile, and hug his pillow, and feel like he’s floating, and wipe a tear from his cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel walks into the cafeteria, feeling uneasy. Ben has just came bounding up to tell him that the plan worked - he'd been ignoring Lucian and Jake for two weeks now and they had finally figured he wasn't worth it anymore.

Ben had launched himself at Castiel’s middle, hugging him, and Castiel had laughed, patting him awkwardly. It wasn't until later that he had passed Alastair further down the hall, wearing a grim smile. The man hadn't said anything, just raised an eyebrow as Castiel had murmured, “Alastair.”

What the hell is his problem, anyway? Castiel really has no idea, but the guy is doing a perfect job of freaking him out, every time.

The usual teacher table in the cafeteria is empty, but Castiel gets his food and sits down anyway. Sure enough, Charlie comes along after a minute, calling a hello as she dodges the students taking their own seats.

“How are you, Charlie?” Castiel smiles at her as she sits opposite him.

“Yeah, not too bad, Cas. My classes are starting to go nuts, though. Thank God the holidays are only a week away.”

Castiel should really be used to his friends using his old nickname by now, but it still sends a warm rush through him when he hears it. He smiles affectionately, agreeing, but freezes when a hand touches his shoulder. The hand trails lightly across the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine, and a voice says, “Hi, handsome.” Then, louder, “Hey Charlie.”

Cas remembers to let out his breath, and with it, “Dean.”

The English teacher dumps his tray on the table and sits next to Cas, leaning in. “Thank fuck it's Friday. That last class was such a rabble.” He starts to unwrap his burger. “Desperate for a few drinks tonight. You guys coming to the Roadhouse?” He takes a bite.

Charlie says, “Hell yes, I am. Cas, how about you?”

Cas has been see-sawing all day between being happy to spend the evening with his friends, and a strong desire to avoid all people and hide at home. But now, seeing Charlie's hopeful face, he smiles. “Yes, I'll be there.” He doesn't dare look at Dean. The hairs on his neck are still standing up.

“Great!” Dean nudges him with his elbow. “How'd the volcanoes go?”

Cas has no choice but to quickly glance at Dean then, while he drags the memory of the morning's class up. Dean’s tucking into his burger, oblivious to the effect his proximity is having. “Um, yeah. It was good.”

“Oh yeah? Lots of mess?” Charlie asks with a grin.

Cas smiles, the memory of the foaming bicarb and vinegar coming back, finally. “Yes, plenty of red, foamy mess. Just how the kids like it. I'm not sure they'll remember any of the chemistry, but they had fun.”

“Aw, that's great, Cas! Mess is the best part of chem, after all.” Charlie nods seriously.

Cas pauses for a moment, chewing on his fries as the memory of the after-class events also surfaces. He's reluctant to ask, but the PE teacher is really playing on his mind.

“Have… Have you guys ever had a problem with Alastair?”

“Alastair Black? Nah, he's a bit… abrupt, but he's a nice enough guy,” Dean says.

Charlie adds, “He can also be creepy. Not a fan. But I've never heard a complaint against him.”

“Why? He giving you trouble?” Dean looks concerned.

Cas backtracks quickly. “No, no. I just find him… intimidating. Sometimes. It's okay, it's probably just me imagining it.”

He can't look at either of them, but he hears the concern in their silence.

“Cas, if he's bothering you, you should say something. You shouldn't feel intimidated in the school, ever.”

Cas looks up at Dean, seeing the worry on his face. “Okay. If it happens again, I'll do something about it. Thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Dean says with a smile.

Charlie stands up. “Don't worry, Cas, I'll look after you tonight.” She gives a huge wink and Cas laughs, telling her to shut up.

As Cas wanders back to class, his heart is light. The memory of Dean's touch on his neck sends another shiver down his spine and an involuntary smile to his face. He feels emboldened. Why should he deny himself happiness? His family are far away - they can't control his life any more. And he can't stop his helpless attraction to the English teacher. He's damned, either way.

Tonight's the night. If Dean still wants him, he'll have a different answer this time.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean puts on his red shirt and does up most of the buttons, spiking his hair up to finish. He turns in front of the mirror on his wardrobe door. Not bad.

He digs around in the bottom of his closet to find his boots, then heads downstairs in socked feet. Coat, boots and scarf on, he walks out into the chilly evening.

On entering the Roadhouse, he spies people he knows at a table at the back. Kevin and Garth are here, and Cas is sitting with them, a beer in front of him. He looks up, and Dean has to hold in a gasp as Cas’ face lights up in a smile on seeing him.

He nearly runs over and plants a kiss on him right there.

 _Stop. That. Stop it._ Cas is straight, or so far in the closet he's halfway to Narnia. But oh, he wishes…

No, he can't go there. He's going to respect Cas’ wishes and stay in the friendzone tonight.

Dean gives an awkward wave and detours to the bar to grab a beer, then he sits next to Cas at the table, saying, “Hey, stranger.”

“Hello, Dean."

Dean clinks his bottle with Cas’ and nods a hello to Kevin and Garth.

As they drink, more of the crew arrive, and even though Dean ends up doing tequila shots with Benny at one point, Cas stays glued to his side. Dean doesn't mind at all - he knows how Cas is with crowds. At Dean's side, Cas ends up drinking more than Dean has ever seen him drink before, and suddenly he's a cute, giggly drunk.

They stand near the group’s table, chatting with Garth. Cas is standing so close beside Dean that his arm and hip keeps brushing Dean's. He turns to look at Cas, wondering what's gotten into him tonight, and his gaze meets Cas’ blue eyes. The glance goes on too long but Dean finds himself not caring.

Cas puts his hand on the small of Dean's back and draws him away from the table. He only removes his hand so he can turn to look at Dean, replacing his hand on Dean's forearm instead.

“Dean, there was something I wanted to ask you.” Cas moves minutely closer, and Dean attempts to look nonchalant while his whole body threatens to spasm.

“Mmm?”

Cas looks at Dean, wide-eyed. “It's just… I wondered whether…” He falters, his eyes going to somewhere past Dean's shoulder. His eyes open even wider, and Dean can see the nervousness leave them, replaced by a delight that takes his breath away.

“Whether… Cas? You okay?” he asks, turning to look behind him. A woman has just walked in the door - gorgeous, short, but in three-inch heels, brown curls with a streak of blue. She surveys the room, one eyebrow raised, and stalks towards the bar. Dean looks back at Cas, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Cas comes back to himself and looks back at Dean apologetically. “Would you excuse me a moment?”

Dean can only nod, and Cas heads over to the bar to tap the girl on the shoulder. She turns and exclaims happily, pouncing on him in an enthusiastic hug. Dean's skin is prickly warm as he sits back down at the table.

Charlie is most of the way to drunk, but she's seen the whole exchange as well. “Who's that?”

“No idea,” Dean says shortly. He can't help but be disappointed that Cas had never mentioned meeting someone. I mean, of course Cas is allowed to meet people and stuff. Women, even. He’s not jealous at all.

This girl is all over him, though - touching his arm, nudging him with her elbow, even touching his face at one point. Cas is enjoying the conversation, smiling and talking more animatedly than Dean has ever seen him. He looks away, trying valiantly to pick up the thread of Benny and Charlie's conversation beside him, but he can't make sense of it. He stands, abruptly.

“Hey, you okay, brother?” Benny looks up, startled.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just gotta hit the head.”

It’s only on the way back from the bathrooms that he sees the group of athletic-looking Amazons standing close to the bar, and seconds later, he literally runs into someone he hadn’t seen while he was checking the women out.

Dean says, “Sorry!” and looks down, right into the bright smile of Ben’s mom. What was her name again? Melissa? No, Lisa?

“Dean! Fancy running into you here!” she says, putting a warm hand on his arm to steady herself. She’s clearly had a few glasses of something already.

“Hi! It’s Lisa, right?” He forces a smile, trying not to glance at the bar. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just here with my coworkers, you know, a few drinks after a hard day.” She waves a hand at the group of women.

Dean’s mind blanks out for a moment. “Uh, okay… what is it that you all… do?”

“Yoga. Well, I’m the yoga instructor. The others do various other classes and training and things at the women’s gym - you know, just down the road?”

“Uh huh. So uh, can I get you a drink? Just heading to the bar myself.” Dean leads her over there, carefully not looking towards where Cas had been standing earlier with his lady friend. If he's going to ditch Dean for some chick, then Dean will return the favour, like the mature adult that he isn't.

They take their drinks over to a quiet table across the room, Dean making sure he puts his back towards the school group. He'll deal with their teasing later.

“So,” Lisa begins, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I’m not usually there at school time - has Ben been okay in your classes lately?”

“Yeah, he’s always a good listener. Does his work - can’t really complain. Why, is something worrying you?” Dean asks.

“Well, not so much lately. A few weeks ago he was very quiet at home, wasn’t eating much. I was worried then, but the last week has been a lot better. I just wondered if you’d noticed anything.”

Dean is mesmerised by the way she holds her glass, long fingers wrapped around the stem. “No, nothing unusual, but I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

“Oh, thank you, Dean.” Lisa puts her hand on Dean’s arm again, smiling. “I really appreciate all that you do for him. He really admires you, you know.”

“Well… the feeling’s mutual,” Dean says, a little awkwardly. “So did you guys have a nice Thanksgiving break?”

They fall into an easy conversation, and as they talk, Dean's tension melts away. Lisa tells him about some of the strange people who come to her classes, and Dean reciprocates with some teacher stories of his own. Soon, he’s left the rest of the school crowd behind him.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel is overjoyed to see Meg come into the Roadhouse. He had been on the brink of pouring out his heart to Dean, but he's sure that can wait just a few minutes while he catches up with his oldest friend. He hasn’t seen her since he left Utah nearly two years ago, but she hasn’t changed a bit. _Well, a little bit_ , he thinks, eyeing off the sparkly stud on one side of her nose. They get drinks and sit at the bar close together, gossiping like they’d never been apart.

“What are you doing in Lawrence, anyway?” Castiel asks, still unable to believe that she’s really here.

“I could ask you the same question, Clarence! You look amazing. Have they got drugs in the water out here or something? I haven’t seen you smile like that in years!”

Castiel chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I asked you first. What have you been up to?”

Meg shrugs, grinning. “Oh, this and that. I worked at an agency out of Kansas City for a while, just photography, but it was kind of lame just shooting the Mayor and random school kids for the local rag, y’know? Now I’m reporting for the Topeka Mail, and taking photos for my own collections.”

She tells him about moving to Topeka, and finding a place there.

“Living the dream?” Castiel asks, smiling.

Meg laughs. “Well, journalism ain’t as glam as it sounds, but I’m having more fun at least. I’m in Lawrence to cover the Christmas markets downtown.”

Castiel says, quietly, “I’m happy for you, Meg. I’m glad you got away from that place. From…”

“I know, Clarence. I’m glad we both did.” She puts her hand over his and squeezes gently. “But enough about that. What’s going on with you? Is there a man in the picture? Are you teaching around here?”

“Whoa, whoa, one question at a time!” he says as he throws a hand up, laughing.

Castiel tells her all about his teaching job, and how happy he was to finally get it. He tells her about Charlie, and about Dean, although he tries to downplay his level of attraction so she doesn’t go and find him immediately.

“I feel like I’m starting to fit somewhere, you know? The pieces have come together.”

“My turn to be happy for you, Clarence,” Meg beams. “After everything you went through with Bart, remember what I said? You deserve to be happy.”

Castiel can’t help his flinch, as though she might invoke the man by saying his name.

“So, you're here with a work group?” She glances over to the table.

“Yes! Come on, I'll introduce you to Charlie and Dean.” Castiel practically drags her over to where Charlie has been sitting with Garth. “Charlie, Garth, this is my friend Meg.”

They exchange pleasantries, then Castiel looks around. “Where's Dean?”

“Over there. I think he's looking to get busy with one of the school moms,” says Garth, nodding over towards the far side of the room. “Bad idea. Don't ever mix work with pleasure, my friends.”

Castiel peers over and sees Dean sitting with a pretty, dark-haired lady. “Is that… Ben Braeden's mom?” A sliver of unease trickles down his spine.

“Think so,” says Charlie, then grins. “Don't worry about them. Tell me how you two know each other.”

Meg grabs Castiel around the head, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, we grew up together back in ol’ Utah,” she says, while Castiel tries valiantly to get away. “Got out of there together, too, eh Clarence?”

Castiel smiles affectionately at her. “Sure did.” _And thank fuck for that, too._

Garth laughs. “You make it sound like you had to escape a prison camp or something!”

Meg cackles, turning to look at Castiel, who gave her a weak smile in return.

“Wait, you didn't actually have to do that, right?” Charlie looks worried.

Meg claps her hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I'll let Clarence here tell you that story sometime, since it seems he hasn't. But in the meantime, tell me what's good to do in Lawrence? I'm here for the weekend - might as well enjoy myself, right?”

After a half-hour of chatter about the local area, Castiel is feeling jittery for no obvious reason. He keeps glancing over at where Dean and Mrs Braeden are, and they look like they're enjoying their conversation. He's fairly sure Charlie is about to start grilling him for information about Utah, and he's really not sure he's ready to talk about it all yet. Seeing Meg has brought it all back in vivid detail, and his happy, glowy drunk feeling is being replaced with a tight chest and the sensation of the walls closing in.

Meg eyes him, finishes her drink and gets up. “C’mon, I need a smoke. Come with?”

Castiel nods, glad that Meg is still just as receptive to his moods as she always was. He gets up to follow her.

They grab their coats and head out the front door, then round the side of the building to where the smokers gather. Meg lights up and asks Castiel about what he’s teaching, but Castiel barely even hears the question.

Two people are kissing passionately under a street lamp nearby. Castiel's blood is ice in his veins. It's Dean, and Ben’s mom.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean stirs, and immediately regrets it. There seems to be a vice around his temples, and his mouth tastes like something crawled in there and died sometime during the night.

He rolls his head over gingerly, coming face to face with a head of hair.

 _Oh god. Oh… crap_. Lisa. What happened?

The previous night comes back in flashes. How much had he had to drink? He vaguely remembers some shots… Some more later with Lisa too… Tequila, maybe?

He remembers the kissing, though. That part was very nice. Outside, under the streetlight. Then, a clear image swims into his mind: Cas. A look of horror on his face, of betrayal. Acid rises in his throat as he recalls turning his back on his friend, sure that Cas had it coming, whatever “it” was.

What came after is hazy now, but somehow they ended up here, at Lisa's place, and going by his current state of undress, things had progressed from there. Brief flashes of smooth skin, giggles, impassioned cries…

An unladylike groan comes from the other side of the bed and Dean opens one eye just a crack.

Lisa rolls over and smiles lazily at him. “Hi.”

His stomach is uncomfortable, but he doesn't think he needs to be sick just yet. This is an epically bad idea. Not the sex part (he's fairly sure that had been great), or the ditching his friends part (although he's sure he'll be hearing about that later), but Lisa is _Ben's mom_. This has got to be a breach of ethics, or at least will be super-embarrassing when he sees Ben next.

Dean croaks, “Hey,” then clears his throat and tries again. “How're you doing there?”

He wonders how Lisa manages to look so beautiful after a heavy night out. Sure, she has smudged makeup and her hair is all over the place, but Dean feels a stirring in his core as she stretches languidly, yawning. The feeling dissipates as his stomach reminds him that moving around with any level of effort is a bad idea.

“Not too bad, considering. I think we put away quite a few shots there at the end.” She laughs, snuggling up to him.

Dean enjoys her warmth along his side. It's been a long while since he's gone home with someone like this, and even longer since he's actually hung around long enough for cuddling. It's nice.

A memory of another morning flashes to the front of his mind - a darker, smaller bedroom, with Aaron snug at his side. Dean remembers that morning specifically, because it was the first time Aaron had mentioned leaving.

_“Dean?”_

_“Mm?”_

_“I need to tell you something. You're not going to like it.”_

_“Okaaay. That's a bad way for a conversation to start.”_

_The words tumble out of Aaron's mouth. “I'm applying for the seminary in New Jersey. My parents have really put the pressure on, I don't really have a choice. My family has a rabbi in every generation and I'm it for this one.”_

_“So...you're moving to New Jersey? What about your college stuff here?” Dean is shocked - Aaron had always resisted his family's religious zeal. But still, they could make this work long distance…_

_“We can't be together. They're strict on relationships, especially gay ones. I'm sorry, Dean. But we've had fun, right?” he asks, pulling back to look at Dean._

_A coldness settles over him. This was only ever temporary to Aaron, he realises. The betrayal is like a knife to the gut, but he manages to choke out, “Sure.”_

He's jerked back to the present by Lisa planting a kiss on his cheek.

“You awake? I've probably got time to find some breakfast before I need to pick Ben up.”

“Oh, right. He's not here?” _Thank fuck._

Lisa laughs. “He's at my parents’ place for the night. Come on, I think I've got eggs and things.” She pushes away and gets up, unashamedly walking naked to the ensuite and closing the door behind her.

Dean feels shy all of a sudden. This is all feeling a little more domestic than he intended. He likes Lisa, he enjoyed their time last night, but he's pretty sure at this stage that she's expecting more than a one-night stand. He's just going to have to try to edge out of this one.

His thoughts wander back to last night, and now that his mind is clearer, he wonders what became of Cas and his lady friend. They were talking animatedly back at the table with the other teachers when he glanced over on the way outside, and although the girl had been touching Cas, he hadn't seen any kissing. That didn't really mean much though - Cas was shy as hell, but he hadn't _seemed_ shy with her.

Dean wonders again what Cas had been going to tell him before his friend arrived. He guesses that Cas must be straight after all, or at least not at all interested in him. He’s a little hurt and confused - he’s sure they’ve shared a few moments over the last few weeks, longing looks, lingering touches. Cas had seemed unusually intent on telling him something last night, with warm happiness in his blue-ocean eyes…

He's startled out of his thoughts again by Lisa coming back out of the bathroom, wearing a satiny robe tied at the waist. She really is a beautiful lady, and so kind. How is he going to get out of this one without hurting her?

“Come on,” she says, and heads out of the room.

Dean sits up slowly, rubbing at his face with one hand. The room spins a little, but thankfully the nausea is manageable. He uses the bathroom, splashing water on his face, and heads out to find his clothes. He eventually finds his shirts out in the hallway, and suddenly wishes he could remember more of what happened last night.

Lisa is in the kitchen, eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan. The smell is divine, and Dean heads over to her, putting his arms around her and cuddling her from behind. As he kisses her gently below her ear, he remembers vaguely that he was going to get out of this. Oh well, might as well enjoy it while he's here.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel barely lifts his head from the toilet bowl before a fresh round of sour vomit makes him convulse again. He heaves until there's nothing left, then flushes it away and gets up, wobbling over to the sink to wash his hands and face. He rinses his mouth, then looks up to meet bloodshot eyes in the mirror.

He looks like shit. Tears prick his eyes again as the image surfaces again - the one he's been unable to banish from his mind all night - Dean, kissing Lisa under the street light. He's about to retch again, when a voice comes from outside the bathroom.

“Clarence? How you doing in there?”

Thank God for Meg. He doesn't know what he might have done last night if she hadn't been there to pick up the pieces of his broken heart, once again. She had brought him home and held him as he spilled out his worthlessness and revulsion at his own idiocy. They had put away a whole bottle of something, he seemed to remember. Eventually, they had fallen asleep snuggled together on the couch, and Castiel had slept surprisingly well until the alcohol had caught up with him just now.

“I'm--” he tries, coughing to clear his throat. “I'm okay. Be right out.”

“No rush, take your time,” Meg says, moving away from the door.

Castiel gives himself a stern look in the mirror. _She was here all night. The least you can do is be friendly this morning._ He tries for a smile but gives up, horrified at the result.

He leaves the bathroom, heading into his bedroom to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. When he re-enters the living room, he can hear Meg making noise in the kitchen. The smell of coffee almost makes him gag again, but he gratefully accepts a cup as he sits at the table.

Meg bustles around. “You haven't got much in the way of food in here, but I found some bread in the freezer.” She puts down a plate of buttered toast in front of him and heads back across the kitchen to organise coffee for herself.

Castiel eyes the toast warily. He takes a nibble, and decides it probably isn't going to kill him. He takes a larger bite as Meg sits down, placing a large glass of water in front of him as well.

“Drink,” she orders, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Meg, I…” Castiel begins, but Meg's interrupts, shaking her head.

“Eat first, caffeine second, then we talk.”

Castiel gives a small smile and dutifully munches his way through his breakfast.

“So. Dean. What's the deal? You weren't exactly making coherent sense last night.” Meg raises one eyebrow.

Castiel swallows, the last mouthful of toast sticking in his throat like sand. He washes it down with coffee and says, sullenly, “There's nothing to tell. He's a friend. That's all.”

“Uh huh. A friend who you are in love with who just hooked up with someone else.”

Castiel's shoulders slump even further.

Meg's voice becomes more gentle. “Is he even into guys?”

Castiel shrugs. “He… kissed me. One time at his place. I-- I couldn't do it. I ran away. He doesn't need a fuck-up like me, Meg, he--”

Meg interrupts him with a hand in his face. “Nope, stop right there. Castiel, you are one of the most kind and loving people I know. You deserve to love, and be loved. What was it your mom used to say? You have too much heart. But the Garrison don't get to make decisions for us anymore. That's up to you now.”

Castiel's heart squeezes painfully at the mention of his mother, but he pushes the memories of her aside. Meg has a point. His family isn't here to tell him what to do anymore.

He wipes tears from his bleary eyes. “But I can't even get that right! I turned him down, Meg. And now… he's moved on. I fucked up.”

“Yes, you did.”

Castiel snaps his gaze to Meg's, hurt stabbing through him. Her steely gaze bores into him.

“But you are not a fuck-up. What are you going to do about it?”

Castiel stares at her. “Well, I … I was kinda hoping to eat a load of ice cream and watch the new season of Vikings.”

Meg laughs, making Castiel jump slightly. “Okay, Lorelai, you do that for today. But tomorrow, you get up and do something small to be your glorious, gorgeous self. And the next day. And if you need me, I'm not far away, so you call. You get me?”

Castiel nods slowly, wondering what he had done to deserve a friend like Meg. Part of him wishes she would just skip the pep talk and leave him in peace, but he probably needs to hear this. He can move on from this - from Dean. Can't he?

He sighs out a breath and finishes the last of his coffee. “I'm not sure I can face him again after this.”

“I don't think you have much of a choice, if you want to keep your job. Yeah, it's gonna hurt. I'm sorry. But you still have friends who love you. Now,” Meg says, standing up and picking up his dirty plate. “I need to get going to this market thing. You gonna be okay here? You could come with?”

“No!” Castiel represses a shudder at the thought of being in a crowd with a hangover. “No, thank you. I'll be fine.” He stands as well and takes their cups to the dishwasher.

Meg loads the plate and steps forward, wrapping her arms around Castiel’s middle.

“I mean it, okay?” she says, looking up at him. “You call me. Any time.”

He smiles, nodding. “I will, I promise. Go have fun at the market.”

“See you round, Clarence.” Meg lets herself out of the house, and Castiel grabs a tub of Ben and Jerry's and retreats to the couch. He stares into space for a while. Bless her, Meg is a godsend, but it's gonna be a while before he's going to have enough energy to do anything, let alone leave the house.

He flicks on the TV and loses himself in medieval Scandinavia.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

The corridors are full of students, excited about the last day of school before the Christmas break. Dean side-steps two boys running down the hall, and he calls after them to slow down.

Dean hasn't seen Cas all week, and he's had only abrupt answers to the text messages he sent. He's determined to go and find him in the science rooms. He's been trying to tee something up for Christmas Eve with Charlie, but so far Cas has been radio silent on the whole event.

As he approaches the science lab door, he hears laughter that makes him smile. It's Cas, and he realises how much he's been missing him like a punch to his stomach.

He pushes open the door and lifts a fist to knock, but he's nearly knocked over by someone else coming out of the room.

“Oof. Sorry!”

The student rights himself and Dean double-takes. “Ben?”

“Oh, hi Dean. I mean, Mr Winchester,” Ben corrects himself.

“Hi. Everything all right?” His eyes travel to the science teacher, standing by his desk at the front of the room.

“Yes, Ben was just sharing some news with me. Happy holidays, Ben. See you in a few weeks,” Cas says, nodding at the suddenly shy student.

“I'll see you on Monday, Ben,” Dean adds quietly. Ben nods and scurries from the classroom.

“How are you, Dean?”

Dean looks back towards Cas. He’s just standing there by his desk, his face a mask.

“I'm good. Glad it's Friday.” He grins, but Cas doesn't. “How ‘bout you? Haven't seen you around this week. You been sick?”

“No, I was here, I just… had a lot of work to catch up on before the break.” The mask drops for a moment and Dean sees sadness and hurt, before it's gone. “Had a good time at the Roadhouse?”

Dean winces slightly - he'd been planning to avoid that. “Yeah, it was fun, wasn't it? Oh, you mean Lisa? Yeah, she's a nice lady. How about you? Did you, uh, hit it off with that brunette you ran into?”

Cas looks scandalised. “‘That brunette’ is Meg, one of my best friends who I hadn't seen in years. So yes, we ‘hit it off’, but not in the way you're implying.”

Dean cringes. “Sorry, man, I didn't know.” _Crap_. “Hey, what were you going to tell me before she showed up?”

Cas waves a hand dismissively, saying, “Doesn't matter now.”

Dean's heart aches. Cas is obviously upset, but he has no idea how to make it better. He tries an “Okay.” _Lame_.

Cas starts to shove paper from his desk into his bag. “Ben tells me you're spending Christmas with him and his mom?”

“Uh, yeah. He told you that? I'm just going round there for lunch, I think. Should be fun.” _Jesus christ, man, get it together._ “I'll see you on Christmas Eve though, right? At Charlie's?”

“Yes, I'll be there. I'll see you then.” He picks up his bag and brushes past Dean, heading for the door.

Dean reaches out and grabs his arm on the way past. “Cas, is there something wrong? We're okay, right?”

Castiel turns to face him and for a moment, Dean can't breathe. Cas looks so sad, he might be about to burst into tears, Dean isn't sure, but he can almost feel the pain radiating off him.

Then the mask drops back into place and Cas manages a tight smile. “Yes, Dean. We're fine. I'll see you on Sunday.”

He turns and walks away, and Dean calls out, “Did you want to grab a drink or something? To celebrate end of term?”

Cas pauses, but barely glances back. “No. I'm sorry, but I really need to get home. Another time.”

Dean furrows his brow, worrying. Had Cas’ friend (was it Meg?) brought him some bad news or something? He wishes he could follow and try to find out what was wrong, but it's probably better to give the guy his space, right?

He wanders through the school towards the car park, and nearly jumps out of his skin as Alastair steps into his path.

“Jesus! Sorry man, I didn't see you in the shadow there.”

“That's okay, Dean, I was just waiting for you.”

Dean takes a step back. He's always found Alastair to be the type to stand just inside his personal space, and it creeps him out. “Okay. What can I help you with?”

“Your buddy, Novak.”

“Yes? What about him?”

Alastair leans in, dropping his voice. “I've seen him going into classrooms with that Braeden boy. He's up to something, that's for sure. You'd best keep an eye on him.”

“Just what are you implying, Alastair?”

Alastair shrugs, looking grim. “It's a bad look, that's all I'm saying. Especially for someone of his… preferences.”

“Preferences? What are you…? No, he would never--”

“I know what I saw, Winchester. And I've seen them a few times. Anyway, I've got to get home. Happy holidays.” Alastair smiles, putting a hand to Dean's shoulder. He tries not to flinch away.

“Sure, happy holidays to you too. See you in the new year.”

Dean walks away, feeling like he needs a shower. Surely Alastair has to be mistaken. Cas would never behave inappropriately with a student. But he has just seen them himself in the classroom together, door closed. He isn't sure what to think.

As he gets out to the Impala he glances at his phone and notices a text from Lisa.

_Lisa: Hey babe, are you done with classes? Going to head to the christmas markets, want to come?_

Dean sighs again. Might as well try to make sure one thing goes well in his life.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings are in the endnote.

Dean leans back on the couch, putting his socked feet up on Charlie's coffee table in front of him. They hadn't had a chance to check out the furniture shops for a new lounge yet, now that the floors had been finished in here, but she’d bought the hardwood coffee table a few weeks ago at a second-hand place.

He'd spent Christmas Eve with Charlie for the last few years, but this time he had hoped it might be more of a party with Cas joining them for dinner.

But it hasn't quite turned out like that. Cas greeted Charlie warmly enough at the door, but he's been cool to Dean all night, barely speaking to him. Right now, he's sitting at the dining table, fiddling with his phone.

Dean can’t help but sneak glances at the guy now and then. He has an uneasy feeling that Cas is pissed with him for some reason, but he hasn’t been able to work out what it is. He hadn’t realised how much he has been enjoying being close to Cas until suddenly, there’s this space between them. He hates it.

Charlie walks in from the kitchen, mugs in hand. “Oi! Get your filthy feet off my furniture, or you don't get any eggnog.”

Dean obliges, taking a mug from Charlie and grinning. “Thanks.”

Charlie takes the other mug over to Cas at the table. Dean hears her murmur, “You okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine. Just talking with Meg.”

“Oh? She staying in Kansas for the holidays?”

Cas sighs. “Yes. I was hoping to catch up with her tomorrow but she's actually working. Journalists keep such odd hours.”

Charlie comes back over to sit on the armchair near Dean, sipping at her eggnog. “That's a shame. How long have you guys known each other?”

Dean glances at Cas and catches a panicked look slip back under the mask. “Most of our lives. We were at school together.” He clams up after that, looking back at his phone.

Charlie glances at Dean and they share a “You ask” “No, you” kind of look.

Charlie rolls her eyes and asks, “So Meg said something about escaping Utah?”

Dean stares at her, intrigued. He hasn't heard that part yet.

Cas laughs, but there's no humour in it. “She's exaggerating. We moved away together after we graduated, that's all.”

Charlie glances back at Dean, but he focuses on Cas. “Dude, it's okay, you can tell us. What's got you so cagey tonight?”

“Nothing. There's nothing to tell. I'm fine.” He stands up abruptly and heads into the kitchen.

Charlie and Dean both get up to follow, but Dean motions for her to stay. She nods, sitting down again.

Dean walks into the kitchen and leans on the counter, watching Cas rinsing and loading dishes into the dishwasher.

“Hey, man. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push.”

Cas stays silent, rising the dirty plates roughly.

“And, uh, I'm sorry about Meg, too. If I didn't already have plans tomorrow I'd have you over at mine for Christmas--”

Cas’ shoulders slump, and he turns his sad eyes to Dean, making his heart give an uncomfortable jump in his chest.

“Thank you. But it's okay, go and enjoy your day with Lisa and Ben. I'll be fine with my Netflix and my candy cane stash.” He smiles ruefully and turns back to the sink.

Dean wants more than anything to call off his Christmas and take care of Cas. In fact what he really wants right now is to grab the guy in a hug, but instead he lets out a breath, reminding himself to give him space. He briefly considers whether this is a bad time to ask about Ben, but he needs to know before tomorrow. “Speaking of Ben, I ran into Alastair the other afternoon at school. He said you've been spending a bit of time with Ben lately?”

Cas looks surprised, then defensive. “Yes, he's been coming to me for a couple of months now. He's a good kid.”

“He is, yeah.” Dean smiles, and continues, “And uh, what is it that he comes to see you for?”

Cas shifts uncomfortably. “Just to chat. I'm afraid I promised him I wouldn't reveal what was said to anyone.”

Dean considers this. There's no reason to worry, he's sure, but he'd better warn Cas anyway, as a friend.

“Cas, I… I'm definitely not implying anything or accusing you of anything here, but… People like Alastair? They like to talk.” He takes in the look of horror on Cas’ face and continues quickly, “I'm just saying maybe it's better not to be inside a classroom with Ben.”

Cas frowns. “I can't believe that he… Surely you don't think--?”

Dean jumps in, “I don't know what to believe right now, okay? I'm just giving you a heads up.”

Cas straightens up and the look on his face… Dean would be surprised if there weren't thunderclouds gathering outside.

“I'll thank you not to assume anything. Ben asked for my help, and I've been a friend to him. Now if you'll excuse me, I think it's time for me to be going. I hope you have an enjoyable holiday. ”

“Cas, no, I…” _Fuck, what have I done?_

Dean follows Cas as he marches out into the living room and apologizes to Charlie.

Charlie gets up. “Oh, do you have to go? I was gonna put on _It's a Wonderful Life_!”

Dean can't see Cas’ face, but he can read the tension and disappointment in his shoulders. “That's a shame, it's one of my favourites. Merry Christmas, Charlie.” He hugs her tightly, then heads for the door, grabbing his trench coat and scarf from the stand.

Dean follows him out into the cold evening air. “Cas, wait. I'm sorry. Please tell me what's going on? I didn't mean to upset you--”

Cas stops on the sidewalk, but doesn't turn to face Dean. He says, quietly, “Dean, please, just leave me be. It's clear you don't think very highly of me, and I'd rather be on my own right now.” He starts to trudge away up the street.

If only Cas knew how wrong he is. Dean longs to run after him and pull him back to the light and warmth of the house, but instead he finds himself frustrated with Cas’ resistance to opening up. Dean just stares at his retreating back, a cold feeling in his gut that has little to do with the weather. “I never said I believed anything Alastair said!” he calls after Cas. “Merry Christmas!”

Cas still doesn't turn around, just hunches his shoulders against the cold and keeps walking.

Dean turns and stomps back up to Charlie's front door. Should he have gone after Cas? What is it with him running away every time he gets upset about something? Dean gets that Cas is a solitary sort of guy, but he kind of wants to tie him down and make him talk. He punches the door jamb in frustration and gasps at the sting.

He heads back into the warmth of the living room, where Charlie sits on the rug, with the movie queued up ready to play.

She looks up at him. “He's done it again hasn't he? Run away rather than let us in?”

Dean sits on Charlie's battered old couch, rubbing at his knuckles. “Yeah, he's upset about this more than he should be. I just wish he trusted us enough to tell us.”

Charlie sighs, talking over the start of the movie. “There's something more to his silence on Utah. The only thing I could dig up from his previous school was that he resigned at the end of 2015. Private religious schools have very vague record-keeping.” She glanced up at Dean. “You don't think that he actually--”

“No!” Dean cuts her off. “No, he's great with the kids. I'll have to ask Ben about it though, I guess. Don't really want to.” He rubs a hand across his eyes. “What a mess.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Charlie says, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with two glasses. She passes one to Dean, clinking her own against it.

“Let’s not pry any more than we have - if he wants to keep his past a secret then that’s fine, we should let him have his space. I'll check in with him tomorrow, make sure he's okay. Try not to worry - I know how you get.” Charlie smiles.

Dean brings the glass to his nose, savouring the whiskey aroma. He drinks, and watches Clarence saving George from his demons, and worries about Cas.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel stumbles along the icy sidewalk, angrily trying to blink the tears away. He’s completely mortified by his conversation with Dean.

Alistair, that asshole. How could he? How could Dean even consider that he could do such a thing?

Flashes of the past haunt him and he wishes home were closer.

_You’re useless before God, Castiel!_

Castiel flinches as old wounds reopen.

_I’m afraid we can’t, in good conscience, allow people with your… preferences… to continue working with children._

It's happening again, isn’t it? Someone is going to tell the school, and he’ll be fired - kicked out again with tail between his legs.

He somehow makes it to his front door and fumbles to get the key into the lock with cold and shaking fingers. Inside, he doesn’t even bother removing his coat or gloves, just drops onto the couch and curls up into a ball.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Christmas morning dawns bright and clear, and Dean allows himself the luxury of sleeping late to shake off the drinks he had the previous night. He and Charlie had hit the bottle fairly hard after Cas left, trying to drown their worries. He's regretting it now, though. It's going to be a busy day, between lunch at Lisa's and dinner later with his mom.

Before long, he’s up, dressed and driving across town to Lisa and Ben’s place. The Christmas Cheer is thick, here - he’s greeted with a street full of cars and a house covered in lights. Inside is no better, with every surface covered with garlands or sparkly tinsel.

Lisa greets Dean at the door with a kiss - she points up at the mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorway. “Couldn’t resist,” she says, smiling.

Dean pulls her in for another quick kiss, which is interrupted by Ben flying in from the side to hug Dean around the middle. “Mr Winchester! You’re here! Come see what I got!”

“Hey, I told you, it’s Dean at home, ‘kay?” Dean throws a grin over to Lisa before he’s dragged through a room full of people, presumably Lisa and Ben’s family members. Funny, he doesn’t remember Lisa mentioning there would be other company for lunch.

Ben drags him into a back playroom with a TV set up on the back wall. “Thank God we’re out of there,” Ben says, with a dramatic sigh. Dean gives a double-take at the kid as he continues, “Sorry about the crowd. Christmas is always a big deal at our place. But if you’re here, we get to hide out back here and don’t have to talk to any of them!”

Dean laughs, and sits on the couch in front of the TV. “Good plan. So, Santa bring you anything good?”

Ben gives him a look that conveyed something like “You’ve got to be kidding”. He says, “No, but my mom gave me this.” He holds up the controller for a Nintendo system - one of the old school ones that has just been re-released. He raises one eyebrow. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

Dean looks around at the door to the rest of the house, where he can hear the rest of the party. “Are you sure your mom doesn’t want us out there? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to play, but--”

“It’ll be fine, she won’t even notice,” Ben scoffs, putting the controller in Dean’s hand.

Dean has only seen the original systems a handful of times at friends houses long ago, but he has a passable memory of how Mario Kart works - enough to not embarrass himself too badly.

After a while, he says, casually, “Ben, do you see Mr Novak much at school?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a nice guy.”

“Does he ever… ask you to do things you don’t want to do?”

Ben looks at Dean for a moment and says, drily, “Are you asking if he’s made any sexual advances towards me?”

Dean blinks at Ben, then startles as the game bleeps. Apparently he’s gone off the road into the lava again. He swallows his surprise and has to remind himself, as he often does, that eleven-year-olds are basically mini-adults. “Yes, I guess I am.”

Ben keeps his eyes on the game as he speaks. “No, he hasn’t. He helped me out with some kids who were being assholes, and now he’s kind of my friend. No big deal.”

A weight lifts off Dean’s shoulders, and even though he feels terrible for doubting Cas in the first place, he’s relieved that he won’t have to take it any further.

He glances back at Ben, and says, “Yeah, he’s great. Still, probably a good idea not to go inside a closed classroom with him, okay? Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Inside a classroom with who?” Lisa had come in and was standing behind them.

“Nothing--” Dean starts at the same time as Ben says, “Mr Novak.”

“That new Science teacher? He’s kind of creepy, isn’t he?” Lisa says, her nose wrinkling daintily.

Dean rounds on her. “Creepy? Castiel is not creepy.”

Lisa shrugs. “Every time I see him he’s staring at someone, you or me or someone else. He’s kind of weird. I think it’s better if you avoid him, Ben.”

“But Mom, he’s my friend.”

Lisa gives Ben a disapproving glare. “Your friend? He’s a teacher. Even more reason to not speak to him, please. Now, lunch is ready. Game off.”

Dean glares at her, a sour taste on his tongue. He knows it’s just the protective mom in her talking, but she just dismissed Cas so quickly. He’s left all prickly, like he’s a cat and his fur has been rubbed the wrong way.

Ben groans and switches the system off.

Dean stands up and follows Lisa, winking at Ben as they trudge into the living area. A huge dining table dominates the centre of the room, covered in Christmas decorations, plates and crackers.

Lisa indicates that Dean should sit next to her, with her elderly Aunt Mildred on his other side.

Mildred smiles at him indulgently. “I’ve heard all about you, Dean. Tell me all about this brother of yours. He's a lawyer, right?”

Yep, this is going to be the Christmas dinner from Hell.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Cas stares at the TV. If he moves, he might just throw up all the candy canes he's eaten over the last eighteen hours. He rubs a hand over his itchy eyes, feeling dried out and hollow. He should probably eat something else, drink some water. He sighs and nestles back into the blankets.

He didn't sleep when he got home last night, just lay on the couch, feeling an ache deep in his chest for what felt like hours. Eventually he had turned on the TV and watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ , wishing desperately that he was still at Charlie's, snuggled up next to Dean on the couch.

He'd found the English teacher deliciously handsome in his plaid shirt and with the glow of Christmas Eve about him. Cas had found it almost unbearable to share the space with him, especially when he had started singing along with the cheesy Christmas music Charlie was playing.

To get through the evening, he'd forced himself to be as distant as he could bear. There had only been one occasion when he'd had to force himself not to throw himself at Dean and kiss him, and that had been in the kitchen when Dean said he would have had him over for Christmas. The memory sours as Cas recalls the conversation that followed.

He wondered how many other people Alastair had mentioned this to. He doesn't blame Dean for his wariness - not really. They've only known each other for a few months, after all. He regrets pushing Dean and Charlie away now, but it's better this way. It might even make it easier to pack up and leave them behind when it all goes to hell again and he has to leave Lawrence, just like last time.

_Castiel knocks on the office door, entering when he hears a murmured, “Come in.”_

_Inside, he finds several members of the school managing council, including the principal, sitting behind a long desk. He walks forward, smiling nervously and nodding at them._

_“Mr Novak. Welcome.” The council president, Pastor Stull, wore a pleasant smile on his face but his eyes were cold as ice. “I'm sorry we had to call this meeting so suddenly, but we felt it was a matter that had to be addressed immediately.”_

_Castiel clears his throat gently. “What matter would that be, Sir?”_

_The pastor sighs before continuing. “Mr Novak, it has been brought to our attention by members of our school community that you are known to have had… a homosexual relationship.”_

_Castiel closes his eyes and tries to swallow down the rising panic._

_When Castiel doesn’t say anything, the principal, Mr Johnston, speaks up. “Castiel, I’m sorry, normally this wouldn’t be an issue, we could have kept it quiet, but we’ve had multiple complaints from parents.”_

_Tears are threatening behind Castiel’s eyes now, but he holds it all in and remains silent._

_Pastor Stull continues, saying gently, “Under these circumstances, I’m afraid we can’t, in good conscience, allow people with your… preferences… to continue working with children.”_

_Castiel finally breaks his silence. He draws a tight breath, saying, “Last I checked, you can’t fire me because of my sexuality.”_

_“No, but we can ask you politely to resign.” The pastor’s eyes are steely, as he continues to rip Castiel’s heart out. “It would be in the best interests of everyone, especially you, if you were to hand in your resignation at your earliest convenience.”_

The crushing despair falls on Castiel all over again, like a ton of bricks. He gasps for breath, the panic curling him into a ball. He lies on the couch, arms over his head, tight vice around his chest for some time, but eventually it eases enough for him to uncurl and grope on the floor for a tissue to wipe his face. He can’t keep this up. He needs sleep.

He manages to stagger to his feet and wobble into the kitchen, opening the cupboard over the stove where his medicines are kept. He fumbles around until he finds the tablets a doctor had prescribed him a year ago for his insomnia. A couple of these should have him sleeping well enough to keep the nightmares at bay. He tips two tablets out into his hand.

The tight band around his chest loosens slightly as he has the startling thought that if he just took a few more of these, all his problems might just disappear. He’d never have to worry about the school firing him, about his family finding him, about his failures with Dean, ever again.

With a sick realization, the panic comes rushing back, and he dumps the tablets and the bottle into the sink, falling to his knees on the floor with a cry. No, no. He’s too chickenshit to even take the easy way out. Just the fact that the idea occurred to him fills him with terror.

Once he’s calmed enough to stand up, he heads back into the living room and fumbles with his phone. He can’t do this on his own. He needs Meg. He calls, but her number goes to voicemail and he hangs up before the tone. The panic starts to rear up again, but then he notices a text notification. It’s from Charlie.

[12:34] _Charlie: Hey Cas, just checking in to see how you’re doing today. Let me know if you need anything, I finish at the nursing home at 3._

Charlie. He checks the time: it’s four. He hugs the phone to his chest a moment, trying to calm his breathing enough to make a call.

_Hello?_

“Charlie?”

_Cas? Are you all right? What’s going on?_

“Charlie… I… I need help,” Cas lets out an involuntary sob.

_Cas, listen to me. Where are you?_

He takes a shuddering breath. “At… at home.”

_Hold on, okay? I’ll be there in five. Don't hang up. It's gonna be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> \- depression  
> \- suicidal ideation
> 
> Thank you all for reading this far! Promise I won't leave you hanging for long <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't just leave you hanging like that, after all your lovely comments. Here's the rest of Christmas Day.

Charlie arrives, after calmly reassuring him over the phone while she drives. Castiel lets her in, then dissolves into tears when he sees her concerned face.

“Dude, what's happened?” she asks, aghast.

He can't speak, so she supports him into the living room and puts him on the couch. He's vaguely aware of her removing her coat and boots before joining him. She looks at him for a moment, while he valiantly tries to hold himself together.

Charlie holds out her arms, and he collapses against her, losing the battle against the tears again. He's embarrassed that he's reacting like this, but he can't seem to stop now that someone is here for him. He tries to apologize but ends up hicupping instead. Charlie just rubs his back and says, gently, “It's okay, Cas. I'm here. Let it all out.”

After what feels like hours, the tears slow and the tightness in his chest has eased. He sits up from Charlie, realizing with horror that the front of her hoodie is all wet.

“Oh Charlie, I'm so sorry,” he says, leaning down to grab a tissue for himself and passing her a couple as well.

“Don't apologize! I'll just hang it over there.” She unzips the hoodie and takes it off, revealing a green Legend of Zelda t-shirt over a grey long-sleeved shirt. She gets up to hang the sweater over a dining chair, moving it closer to the radiator. “Now, I'm going to make a cup of tea, and you can tell me as much or as little as you want to, okay?”

Cas gives her a grateful look. “Thank you, but you really don't need to do that. I'll be fine--”

“Cas, no. You are clearly not fine. I'm not going anywhere, even if you refuse to tell me anything.” She heads into the kitchen and Castiel wonders once again how he's ended up with such fierce women in his life.

A short time later there's a gasp from the other room. Castiel realises with horror that the sleeping tablets are still there in the sink. Charlie doesn't come out, though, until she has filled the kettle and made tea, while Castiel sits on the couch, huddled under his blanket. She comes back out with two cups and the bottle of tablets, and she places all of them on the coffee table.

“So did you take any of these? Do I need to call an ambulance?” she asks. It's probably the most serious face Castiel has ever seen on her, tinged with worry.

His heart cracks again. What an asshole friend he is, to make her worry so much. He should never have called her.

But no, he can't get through this alone. And he's very grateful that she's here, and willing to listen. He took a deep breath. “No,” he said calmly, although his voice was hoarse. “No, I couldn't take them. I… I just needed some sleep, thought they might help, but then…” His breath hitched and he found himself unable to continue.

“It's okay, I'm glad you didn't take them.” She hesitates for a moment. “So, listen, Cas. You don't have to tell me what's going on. If you'd rather tell Dean or someone else, that's fine. But me and Dean? We're your friends and we're concerned about you. You can tell us anything, and we’ve got your back, okay?”

Castiel’s heart swells with gratitude. He should probably tell her that he really was fine, that she could go, that he was just lonely at Christmas. That was close to the truth, at least. Instead, his brain decides to take the unfiltered approach, saying, “I don't want the school to fire me. It happened before, at the last school I was at.”

Charlie sits still for a moment, before she recovers with, “It did?”

“It's a long story,” Castiel hedges. Even now, when he's decided to be honest, he's finding it almost impossible to want to burden anyone else with the story.

“I've got all night,” Charlie smiles, and Castiel realises with a glance at the window that the light has gone. Charlie must have turned on a light when she came in.

He takes a few deep breaths before starting to speak again. “I had this friend in school, Bartholomew. We were inseparable - he and Meg and me. I mean, I’ve known Meg since we were tiny, but the three of us did everything together at school, until Bart’s family moved away to a missionary posting when we were ten. Meg and I were upset, of course, but life… it went on.”

He pauses to sip his tea, grateful that Charlie is just sitting, listening and drinking hers.

He continues, “We graduated high school, then I went to study to be a teacher, and when I finished, I moved away from home to work at an independent Christian school. Meg ended up moving with me to go to a college nearby, which was fantastic - we'd never really been out on our own before, away from the influence of our families. That's where we were when Bartholomew found us. He was back from whatever mission his parents had been on, and he got a job in the town and an apartment nearby, and we were back to being easy friends. Only trouble was, something was different now. He was... hot. I found him attractive and it confused the hell out of me. I hadn’t really been with any girls before, apart from some adolescent mucking around with Meg, you know how kids are…”

Castiel pauses while he takes a deep breath. This is the first time he’s purposely come out to anyone, and he feels the gravity of the moment weighing on him. “I couldn't understand my attraction. I was raised in a conservative church community - being gay was never on my radar. I thought there was something wrong with me, didn't mention it to anyone, not even Meg. But then one evening, Bart and I went for drinks at a bar, and he… told me that he was attracted to me. We kissed.”

He swallows, the memory of the excitement of that night still sending a shiver through him.

“He wasn't happy. Kept reminding me that our parents, the church would be pissed if they found out. So we kept it quiet, no public affection, meeting up at his place to… be intimate.”

He has no idea why he's telling Charlie so many details, but even though shame has a vice grip around his lungs, it feels cathartic to pour it all out like this. So he keeps going.

“We had this weird, illicit relationship for about three months, when one day he just kind of freaked out. Said we couldn't do this anymore, than it was against the natural order or something. I was devastated. All I knew was that he was rejecting me. Then, that Sunday at worship, he outed me, in front of the whole community. Called me an abomination, said I had seduced him.”

Charlie gasps - the first sound she has made since Castiel started talking. She puts a hand over her mouth and shakes her head.

Castiel grimaces. “My parents… didn't deal with the news well. Their church isn't exactly forgiving on matters of sexuality. When word got around, the parents of students I was teaching started to complain. They didn't want me near their kids. So I was asked to resign.”

“Oh, Cas. I'm so sorry.”

“I moved far away to get away from it all. Meg couldn’t come because of her college, and I was pretty messed up for a while there. It took me nearly a year to land the job here, but I was so relieved when I did. And now it might all be for nothing again…” His breath hitches again.

Charlie sits up and takes Castiel’s hand gently. “Nope, not gonna happen. Firstly, our school is more progressive than that. There's no way you'd be asked to leave based on what happens in your private life, unless it's illegal or something.” She grins, and Castiel finds a small hope kindling. She continues, “Secondly, there's no way Dean and I are gonna let them kick you out, okay? We've got your back, no matter what.”

Castiel can feel tears threatening again, but only one of two fall before he takes a breath and says, “Thank you. I don't deserve it.”

“Bullshit. Of course you deserve it. Stop that. Now…” She looks at him speculatively. “What about Dean?”

Castiel blinks. “What about him?”

“You love him.”

Castiel is baffled by the sudden change of subject. He’s just come out to her, and she brushed it off like they were discussing what they had for lunch. “What? No! You… We--”

“Come on, Cas. A mole rat could see the way you feel about him. I feel like I have to leave the room when you guys start gazing at each other, jeez.”

Castiel doesn't know how to respond to that. Was he that obvious? He sighs, hanging his head.

“He told me, y’know. That he tried to kiss you? He was so upset - he assumed you were straight, that he'd scared you away from being his friend. Obviously, that's not the case,” she says, waving her hand at him.

“I… I don't know what I am, Charlie. It all just hurts. I thought I could just be friends with him, but... I’m such an idiot. Anyway, it's too late now. He's with Lisa, and I'm… broken.”

“I'm not so sure about either of those things. For starters, check this out.” She digs her phone out of her back pocket and opens up a message - a photo from Dean, sent earlier that day. In it, he's wearing a paper crown, taking a selfie with an elderly lady. She's planting a kiss on his cheek while he grins, a look of mild panic in his eyes. The caption reads, “Kill me now xx”

Castiel can't help but huff out a laugh.

Charlie grins, “Sounds like it's not all roses at the Braeden Christmas.”

Castiel sits back in the chair. “Should we rescue him?”

“Hell no!” Charlie says firmly. “He got himself into this mess, he can dig his way out.” She eyes him speculatively. “Cas, if you want to, we can fix this. I’m like, ninety per cent sure he would still say yes to you if you asked him.”

Castiel shakes his head sadly. “No, I don't want to ruin whatever he's got going on. Please don't tell him any of this, Charlie. I don't want to complicate anything more than it already is. If the opportunity arises, I'll tell him myself, but please keep this quiet. For me.”

“I don't think it's as complicated as all that, but okay, if you don't want me to, I won't say a word.” Charlie puts out her pinky and Castiel raises an eyebrow at her. Charlie looks at him incredulously, grabbing his hand and linking her pinky with his. “Come on, you don't know how to pinky-swear? Did you live in a bunker all your childhood?”

Castiel grins. _Not far wrong_ , he muses.

“As for being broken, are you seeing anyone for these panic attacks?” When Cas shakes his head, she continues, “You could go and talk with Garth. He's great with kids, but he's actually a qualified psychologist. He helped me when I was having a rough time after my parents died.”

“Thanks, but I'm sure I'll be fine,” he says. It's one thing telling this whole sorry tale to Charlie, but to pour out his troubles to a stranger? The idea is terrifying.

“Cas, promise me you'll consider it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. And this,” she points to the bottle of pills on the table, “worries me. If you need help, please ask.”

Castiel looks at the bottle, and swallows down despair. He looks at Charlie with solemnity. “I'll consider it. Thank you for looking after me, Charlie.” He gives a wan smile as he gathers her into a hug.

“Anytime, dude.” They pull apart and Charlie gathers herself to stand. “Now, do you want me to get out of your hair? I don’t have anywhere to be, but if you’d rather I left--”

“No!” Castiel says, a little louder than he means to. He continues, quieter, “No, please stay. We could watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” Charlie says, smiling.

“Have a look through the menu - I’ll just get us something to eat.” Castiel gets up and heads into the kitchen, feeling heavy and wrung out. He puts his hands on the counter and leans against it, just breathing for a moment. He hopes that he’s doing the right thing, finally opening up to Charlie. He certainly feels better for having told someone about it all. As long as Dean doesn’t find out - that would be mortifying.

He grabs his tub of Phish Food out of the freezer and a couple of spoons, and heads back to the couch.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean takes a mouthful of Coke and wishes it was whiskey. Why’d he drive here? He turns to smile at Lisa’s aunts, trying to catch on to their conversation, but giving up after a few moments. He’s waaay out of his depth here.

He picks up his phone and sees that Charlie has definitely seen his messages, but hasn’t replied. She finished up at the home a couple of hours ago - what the hell is she doing? He fires off a quick message,

_Dean: Dude, I know you’re reading this. What gives? Where’s my rescue call?_

He puts the phone down and sits miserably for a few moments, until the phone buzzes against the table. He picks it up, but it’s a message, not a call. The message is a photo. Charlie and Cas are sitting in front of a TV, Cas holding a tub of what looks like ice cream. On the screen, Alan Rickman is frozen mid-shout. Those assholes are watching _Die Hard_ without him.

He looks indignantly around the table, but there’s no one to share his outrage with, so he looks back at his phone, looking closer at the photo. That isn’t Charlie’s TV - it’s way bigger. They must be at Cas’ place. He looks curiously at the science teacher. He has deep circles under his eyes and his hair is a little wilder than usual. Dean feels a clench of worry again, but if Charlie’s there, she’ll look after him. He wishes with all his being that he was there, instead of in this Purgatory.

He looks up a gif of someone giving the middle finger and sends it, just as someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns his phone off quickly and turns to see Ben standing there with a slightly desperate look in his eye.

“Come on, Dean. Wanna play?”

“You betcha, kid. Excuse me,” he says to the people still sitting at the table, and with a sigh of relief, escapes back to Mario Kart. At least he could play until it was time to head to his mom’s place.


	12. Chapter 12

“Are you sure? Mr Fizzles can sense if you're being a liiiii-arrrr!”

“Garth, if you don't put the puppet down right now, I'm going to stick it so far up your--” Castiel begins.

“Okay, okay!” Garth says, putting Mr Fizzles on the shelf behind his chair. “It works on the kids, okay? Sheesh, maybe we should work on some anger issues.”

Castiel rubs his eyes with a finger and thumb. This is the third time he's been to see Garth since school started again. Despite his somewhat unconventional methods, the counsellor has been helping him. He's seen a doctor and started on some anti-depressants, and has a library of strategies to help him through the panic attacks. It's early days, but there's something about Garth that puts Castiel at ease, and he's shared more than he planned to. Today's session, though, is starting to wear him down.

“So, you haven't spoken to your parents since you left Utah? At all?”

“No,” Castiel is firm. “And I don't intend to. They made it quite clear what they thought of my life choices and I have no desire to… relive that.”

“But Cas, their rejection is still causing you pain. I'm not saying you necessarily should right now, but when you're ready, it might help you to find peace to speak to them again. Just consider it, okay?”

Castiel sighs as he remembers the last time someone had asked him to “consider it”. At Christmas, Charlie had hung around until early the next morning. She had checked in on him at home through the holidays, unlike Dean, who he has barely seen. Dean has been sending him messages now and then, trying to mend his bridges after Christmas Eve, but it seems that Charlie has honored her promise not to tell Dean his secrets. He hasn't heard from Alastair since before the holidays, and he is still a little hurt that Dean would even consider that he might have behaved inappropriately with Ben.

Since school started in the new year, things have gone back to relatively normal. Lunch in the cafeteria has been stilted, but bearable. Castiel has been trying to remind himself that Dean is busy with Lisa and Ben and doesn't have so much time for his friends anymore. Castiel helped Charlie with her bathrooms last weekend, and she fed him takeout. They have an easy friendship now even though she’s also busy with her new girlfriend, Gilda.

When his time with Garth is up, Castiel heads back to his classroom to collect his gear. The hallways are deserted this late in the afternoon. He wraps his scarf around his neck before he heads out into the cold February evening, but before he walks out the door, he hears a call from behind him that makes his heart jump in his chest. “Hey Cas, wait up!”

“Dean,” Cas says with a smile, turning to greet him. The sight of the English teacher still makes his stomach flip over, and no amount of therapy is going to fix that.

“Hey,” Dean said, returning the smile. “Heading home?” He comes to a stop in front of Castiel, one arm full of a pile of books, the other hand holding a laptop bag. He looks tired around the eyes, and his whole frame seems to radiate exhaustion.

“Can I take something for you?” Castiel holds out his hands and takes some of the books from Dean, who sighs gratefully.

“Thanks, dude. I should have brought in a box for these.”

“No problem,” Castiel murmurs as they headed out into the car park. “I'm actually headed to Charlie's for dinner, I think. Just need to check in with her…” He trails off as he pulls his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.

Dean chuckles, “Guess I must have missed that text.” He's frowning when Cas glances at him.

_Well, that's not awkward_. “Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you've been so busy lately we just haven't seen you,” Cas says with a grimace. He glances at his phone. “Oh,” he says again. “Charlie had a last-minute date invite with Gilda. Guess I'm on my own.” That sounded sadder than he intended.

Dean looks excited suddenly. “Dude, Lisa and Ben are off at some family dinner that mercifully, I wasn't needed at. Let's get dinner together.” He beams like it's the greatest idea ever, and Cas is inclined to agree, even though his inner introvert is screaming.

“Sure, that would be great. What do you feel like eating?” Cas smiles as they reach the Impala across the icy surface of the car park.

Dean unlocks the car and stashes the laptop and books in the passenger seat. He reaches out to take the remaining books from Cas, his cold fingers brushing Castiel’s and sending a shiver up his spine.

“Thanks. How about burgers at that place on West 6th Street? I'd prefer to go home and get changed first though - that okay?”

Castiel is conflicted. On the one hand, this is basically a date with Dean. He's over the moon. But inside, his brain is shouting at him all the ways he could fuck this up. There's a good chance that if he goes back home right now, he might never make it out again, but he's got to go for it. Charlie would be proud of him, whatever she was getting up to with Gilda.

“Sure, that sounds great. You want to meet me there at seven?” he asks, feeling bold.

“Why don’t I just come to yours at seven? We can walk down.”

It’s due to be a cold night, but the burger place is only a block from Castiel’s. “Sounds good. See you then.” Castiel smiles as Dean climbs into the car he calls his “baby” and fires up the engine. His own hatchback is so lame in comparison.

He drives home, lost in thought for the five minutes it takes him. Dean has been with Lisa for a few months now - he practically lives at her place. Dean’s had nothing but good things to say about her and Ben, so all seems well. So why did he look so excited and slightly embarrassed about asking Cas out for dinner, almost like it was a real date?

Nope, he must be imagining things. He shakes his head, trying to ignore the excitement building in his gut.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. It's fine. There's no reason he can't go out for dinner with his best friend, without telling his girlfriend. He does it with Charlie all the time! Or at least, he used to. He frowns.

He can't repress the excitement as he finishes getting ready, though. He hasn't been anywhere with Cas alone, apart from the school cafeteria, in ages, and a part of him wishes Charlie could be there as a buffer to awkwardness.

As the Impala rumbles across town to Cas’ place, he realises that he misses his best friends like air. Lisa has a hectic lifestyle, and she has pulled him into it. He's enjoying it - her friends are nice people, the happy family dinners and games nights are fun, and yes, the sex has been fantastic. But he has been missing his coffee mornings and lazy nights in with Cas and Charlie like crazy.

Dean pulls up outside Castiel's place. He's only been there one other time, and that was just to drop Cas off, so he's a little curious to see the inside of the place this time. He leaves the car and walks up the steps to the front door of the apartment block, pressing the button for Cas’ apartment. The door doesn’t buzz to let him in, but after a minute or so the front door opens to reveal the science teacher himself, all dark blue sweater and tousled hair and sunny smile.

There's a lurch in Dean's chest, but he shuts that shit down quickly. His life is complex enough without Little Dean trying to make choices for him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says with a smile, and Dean can't help but beam back. _Down, Little Dean!_

“Hey. Still okay to walk down? It hasn’t snowed yet.”

“Sure.” Cas pulls a wooly hat on, then closes the door behind him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he walks down the stairs to join Dean.

Dean has an overwhelming urge to put his own hand in Cas’ warm pocket to take hold of a hand, but he shoves that thought down as well. What’s wrong with him tonight?

They begin to walk down the street and Dean casts about for something to talk about. Has it really been so long since he's caught up properly with Cas?

“Hey, look, before things get weird at all, I just want you to know that I’m sorry for that shit on Christmas Eve. I haven’t had a chance to tell you but I should have made it more clear that I didn’t believe any of what Alastair was insinuating, okay?”

Cas gives him a considering look. “That’s a hell of a way to start a conversation, Dean. But I appreciate that you were trying to warn me, so thanks, I guess.”

Dean isn’t sure if that means Cas is still mad at him, but they’re still walking along so he guesses they’re okay. “Cool. Okay, good.”

They walk along in silence for a few moments, then Cas asks, “How come you were at school so late today?”

“Oh, there’s another writing competition coming up, plus I had grading to do. Those books I was carrying earlier are for my eighth grade class.”

And with that, the hesitation melts away and they chat the rest of the way to the restaurant. They sit down and order their burgers, all the while discussing school and what Charlie’s up to with her house, and it’s all so relaxing and natural that Dean finds himself sad that they don’t do this more often.

When he’s finished his burger and is working on his second beer, he takes a deep breath. He’s never been any good at sharing his feelings, but he needs to get this out.

“Cas, I appreciate you sticking around, through all this… I'm sorry I've been so busy lately. I miss you… and Charlie - you're like my brother and sister and I can't tell you how much it means to me that I've still got you guys.” He risks a look at Cas’ face and catches a hurt look. What had he said? He pauses, then ventures, “You okay, man?”

Cas flinches, recovering quickly with, “Yes, I'm fine. And of course we're here for you, whatever you need.”

Dean smiles at that. He glances down at Cas’ plate, where the last half of his burger is sitting. “You gonna eat that?”

Cas glances down in surprise. “Uh, no.”

“Mind if I…?”

“No, go ahead,” Cas says, and they swap plates. Dean tucks into the remaining burger, and Cas gives a tired smile. “I think I'm going to have to pass on dessert. It's been a busy week.”

Dean’s buoyant mood suddenly takes a dive. “Oh. Are you feeling okay?”

Cas gives him a considering look, as though he's holding something back. He takes a breath before saying, “You know how I've been seeing Garth?” Dean nods, his mouth full of burger. Cas continues, “He's got me on some new medication. It's fine, just making me tired.” He rubs at his forehead absently.

Dean has a sudden awful realization that he's missing something here. He hasn't been there for Cas, and the guy's been going through some crap. He swallows the last of the burger and asks, “Is all this because of what happened with Alastair?”

Cas glances up at him. “Partially, although that seems to have blown over for now.”

“Is there something I can help with?”

Cas turns a look of such bone-deep sadness and longing on him that he almost gasps aloud. But he turns away a moment later, looking down at the table again. “No,” he says quietly. “Thank you. It's nothing, really.”

What was that all about? He takes a breath. “It doesn't look like nothing.” He reaches out, putting a hand lightly on Cas’ arm.

“Dean,” Cas begins, looking up with a pleading look in his blue eyes. “I'm fine. Please, don't worry about me.” He pulls his arm back and stands up abruptly. “I'm just going to the bathroom before we go. I'll be right back.”

Dean watches him walk over towards the bathrooms. _Fuck_. He's scared him off again. He sighs, waving to the waiter to get the check.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel locks himself in a stall and rests his forehead against the back of the door. It was all going so well, he was enjoying himself, but then Dean has to go and remind him that he's getting on with his life. He's happy with Lisa and Ben, and he certainly doesn't need to hear about Castiel’s boring struggle with anxiety.

He feels a creeping dread sinking claws into his chest, and he breathes in quick gasps. What was the strategy again? He forces himself to drag in a deeper breath and counts back from ten as he lets it out. He can panic when he gets home but not here. Not now.

The deep breaths slow and get easier, and he thanks Garth again for showing him that one with his ridiculous puppet.

When he's calm, he leaves the bathroom. Dean is sitting at the cleared table, frowning at nothing. Castiel's heart clenches and he longs to touch Dean's forehead, smooth out those lines, kiss those lips into a smile again…

Dean looks up. “You okay?”

Cas shakes the mental image away. “All good. Where do we pay?”

“It's all good, I did that already,” Dean says, standing.

“Oh, you didn't need to--”

“Cas, it's fine. Let's go.”

They head out into the cold, hunching shoulders against the frosty breeze. A light snow has started falling, and Castiel wishes he brought his gloves.

They wander down the street in a companionable silence, until Dean asks, “So have you met this new girl of Charlie's?”

Castiel nods. “Briefly. They met on New Year's Eve, at the Roadhouse.”

“Right. I think she did tell me that.” Dean looks uncomfortable.

Castiel raises one eyebrow, curious. “She seems nice. Charlie's certainly happy. Gilda works shifts at the hospital though, so they can't plan things together very easily. That's why she had to bail tonight.”

“Of course. Never mind, we'll catch up with her later.” Dean pauses for a few moments. “How about you, Cas? Anyone on your radar after New Year's?”

Cas keeps his eyes on the sidewalk, to hide the sudden heat in his cheeks. _If only you knew, Dean._ “No,” he says, flatly.

Dean doesn't say anything further, and Cas wonders how much of a loser Dean must think him.

As they walk further, the wind picks up, making Castiel shiver. Yep, definitely a hot chocolate night tonight. He wonders if Dean might be interested in joining him. He wonders if he could be brave enough to ask.

Dean sees him rubbing his hands together and says “You cold? Here.” He grabs Cas’ hand, rubbing it between his own, and fireworks explode down Castiel’s spine.

“How- how are you so warm?” he chatters, grinning with delight.

Dean releases Castiel’s hand and puts his own back in his pocket, pulling out a small packet of something. “It's a chemical handwarmer. Seen one before?” He reaches over and slips it into Cas’ coat pocket.

Castiel smiles at the heat as he puts his own hand into the pocket. “I have, but I thought they were mainly for skiing.”

“I did actually get this one at Snow Creek, but they’re awesome for cold mornings. I uh, kind of hate having cold hands.”

They amble along to where the Impala is parked and Dean opens the door, starting the motor and grabbing a scraper. He makes quick work of the ice on the windscreen, and Cas barely breathes as he watches Dean lean over the hood.

Once he’s done, Dean turns to him, suddenly looking shy. “Thanks for this, Cas. I really enjoyed it.”

“You don't want to come inside to warm up a little?” Castiel isn't sure if the question is inappropriate, but he suddenly doesn't want the night to end.

“No, I, uh… said I'd take Ben to baseball tomorrow morning.” He winces.

Oh yeah, that other life. Cas nods sympathetically. “Okay. Well, at least take this back for your hands.” He pulls the handwarmer out of his pocket and presses it back into Dean’s hands. On impulse, Cas grabs Dean’s sleeve and leans in, placing a kiss on his cheek. He's aware of Dean's sharp inhale before Dean grabs him in a quick hug, then turns and steps back a few paces, a half-smile on his face. He raises a hand in farewell and turns, heading back to his car.

Cas unlocks the front door, but stands watching until the car drives away up the street, before heading inside.

He leans against the inside of the door, closing it with a click. He bangs the back of his head on the wood, cursing the way he keeps doing this to himself. He's in way too deep. And especially after Dean had basically punched him in the gut with the “brother” comment. Dean isn’t romantically interested at all, and the sooner Castiel gets that into his head, the better things will be. He’s got to stop seeing Dean outside of school. It’s torture.

The thought of school reminds him of Charlie, and he pulls out his phone to get the details of her date. Instead, he sees two missed calls from Meg, not long ago.

He walks upstairs to his apartment and into the living room, then dials Meg. She answers almost immediately.

_Castiel?_

Cas knew something must be wrong if Meg was using his actual name. “Meg? What's going on?”

_Michael just tried to call me. They're looking for you, Clarence. Be careful, okay?_

Castiel's gut turned to ice, and he sat down heavily on the couch. “How do you know it was Michael?”

_I recognised his voice and hung up right away. I've got no idea what he wants, but if he's found my number then there's a good chance he'll have yours too._

Castiel sits quietly for a moment. This is what he's been dreading since he left Utah. He always told Meg that they'd never be able to disappear, unless they completely changed their names and went into hiding.

_Hey, you okay?_

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

_I'm fine, although I may have to ditch this number. I'll let you know as soon as I have a new one, ‘kay?_

“Okay.” He rubs his face with his free hand and sighs. “Meg?”

_Yeah?_

“I'm sorry this has happened.”

_No, Clarence, don't ever be sorry that we left that shit hole. I thank my lucky stars every day._

“I know you do. Okay, be safe. I'll talk to you soon.”

After Meg says goodnight and they hang up, Castiel pitches sideways on the couch and curls up for a little while. He's always known that it was just a matter of time until his family caught up with him. But now, he's making something good out of his life, and he has more friends to lean on. For the first time, he feels a glimmering of hope.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean pulls up outside Lisa's, trying to avoid the slushy mess on the side of the road as he gets out of the car. He's stupidly decided to wear nice shoes for their Valentine's Day dinner rather than the boots he usually lives in at this time of year, and he regrets it already. His feet are freezing.

He walks carefully up the icy path, making a note to ask Ben to salt it later. As if summoned, Ben opens the front door before Dean knocks.

“Were you watching for me, Ben? Thanks, buddy. It's freezing out there.”

“Nah, I just saw the headlights through the window. My grandma's here. I'm trying not to have to talk to her,” Ben says in a stage whisper.

Dean chuckles. “Fair enough. Where's your mom?”

“I'm here. Nearly ready.”

Dean looks up to see Lisa coming down the stairs in a slinky red dress, fiddling with an earring. She looks gorgeous, and Dean is momentarily disappointed that Ben and his grandma are in the house. He smiles, instead, kissing her deeply when she gets to the bottom step.

“Eww, gross. I'm outta here.” Ben pushes past them up the stairs.

Lisa laughs. “Be good for your grandma, please!”

“See ya, Ben,” Dean calls, but he's already disappeared upstairs.

“Come on,” Lisa says, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. “I've just got to grab my stuff and say bye to my mom.”

Dean follows her through a door. Lisa's mom is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, and she looks up and smiles as they come in.

“Dean” she says, standing as he comes over.

“Don't get up, Mrs Braeden,” Dean says, bending to kiss her cheek. He's met Lisa's mom a few times now, since she looks after Ben a lot when Dean and Lisa go out, much to Ben's disappointment. She's a short, older-middle-aged lady, her black hair streaked with grey, and she has always been kind to Dean.

Lisa says, “I'll be right back - gotta grab something from upstairs.”

She disappears, leaving Dean feeling slightly awkward. He sits down at the table across from Mrs Braeden.

“I just love Valentine's day, don't you?” she asks, smiling. “All these couples in love - it's such a delight to see.”

“Heh, yeah,” Dean says, feeling a momentary surge of panic. Couples in love?

“Where are you going tonight?”

He recovered enough to answer, “The Italian place down near the school. It's probably going to be super busy…”

“Ah, it'll be perfect. So romantic.” She sighed as Lisa came back in. “Have a lovely time, you two. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!”

“Mom!” Lisa says with a laugh.

They wrap up warm and navigate the path to the car, Dean leaning over the hood again to scrape the icy mess off the windshield. He curses as he realizes he'd forgotten to bring the other hand warmer with him - the one he'd given Cas could be reset, but he hadn't had a chance over the weekend.

Lisa shivers dramatically as Dean climbs into the car, slamming the door and rubbing his hands together.

“Ever thought about replacing this old thing with something newer? Something with decent heating and a remote starter?” Lisa says, with a teasing grin.

Dean is horrified. “Hell, no. This was my dad's car, and I won't give it up until it's a rusty wreck.”

“Hmm, we'll see.” Lisa laughs.

Dean eyes her suspiciously. She wouldn't really try to make him get rid of his Baby, would she?

As they drive towards the restaurant, his mind flicks back to what Lisa's mom had said about couples in love. Sure, he enjoys spending time with Lisa and Ben, and they get on well, but… He stares ahead at the sleet coming down, confused.

They reach the restaurant, and Dean holds the door of the restaurant open for Lisa. The interior of the Italian restaurant is warm and inviting, with soft music playing that is almost drowned out by the crowds of people.

They shed their coats and approach the front desk, but when Dean asks about their reservation, the kid behind the counter apologizes. “I’m sorry Mr Braeden, but your reservation is for eight o’clock, not seven.”

Dean blinks in surprise, then chuckles awkwardly. “Oh no, I'm not Mr Braeden. You, uh, can't get us in now, though?” He tries for a winning smile and a flutter of lashes but the girl's not buying it.

“I'm sorry, sir. As you can see we're a little busy tonight. You're welcome to wait in the bar.” She gestures towards their left to where a crowd of people are standing.

Dean glances at Lisa, then back to the girl at the desk. “Thanks. We'll wait.”

They move away and Dean quickly realizes that it's going to take ages before they're going to be able to get near the bar.

Lisa says to him, “I'm sorry. I'm sure I booked for seven. There must be some mix up.”

Dean smiles. “Don't worry about it. Hey, we should just go down to the Roadhouse for a drink. It's just down the block, and would be a lot less crowded.” _And cheaper_. He keeps that thought to himself.

Lisa doesn't look too happy about it, but she agrees, so they fetch their coats and head back out into the cold. It's a short walk to the the Roadhouse but Dean is chilled through by the time they get inside again. Lisa heads right for the open fireplace at the back of the room.

Dean follows slowly, raising a hand to wave to Ash behind the bar. Ash nods, looking pointedly across the room. Dean follows his gaze and sees Charlie sitting, head close to another woman. Must be Gilda. He's disappointed to not see Cas there, but he turns back towards Lisa and puts his arms around her from behind, reaching out his hands to the fire.

He places a kiss on her cheek, then says quietly into her ear, “C’mon, Charlie's over there with her new girlfriend.”

Lisa glances around, with a small frown. “Oh, okay then.”

“Come on, show some enthusiasm,” Dean says with a grin, trying not to feel hurt on behalf of his friends.

“I'm sorry. It's just, this is _our_ night.”

“I know, but we're only here for a little while, then dinner, right?” He smiles again and she reaches up for a quick kiss.

He turns to lead her across the room to where he saw Charlie earlier. As they reach the table, he calls out, “Hey, Charlie!” Charlie turns around, stepping back, and Dean looks straight into wide blue eyes. Cas is sitting on a stool behind her.

“Cas,” he manages, although it’s suddenly hard to breathe. The science teacher looks amazing tonight, with a denim shirt over a darker one, and his tousled hair begging for fingers to be dragged through it.

“Hello, Dean,” he says with a small smile, and the spell breaks when Charlie grabs Dean into a hug, pulling him down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey, you guys. This is Gilda. Gilda, this is Dean and his girlfriend, Lisa.”

“Lovely to meet you, finally,” Dean says, taking her hand.

Lisa waves awkwardly to Cas, saying, “Hi, Castiel.”

“Mrs Braeden. How are you?” he replies with a serious look.

Lisa smiles. “Oh no, Lisa is fine. And I'm… fine. Thanks.”

Dean looks around at her, curiously. Was she… nervous? To talk to Cas?

He speaks up. “I’m uh, gonna grab drinks. Be right back.” He heads for the bar, letting out a sigh as Ash comes over.

Dean gives him his drink order and Ash grabs a beer glass.

“First time for the lady to meet the friends?” Ash asks with a smirk, pouring the beer.

“Nah, they’ve met before. They just don’t really seem to mix that well, you know?” Dean has been trying not to let how much he’s been missing his friends affect him, but now it hits him that the dinner with Cas last week was the first time he’d spent longer than half an hour with either of them in weeks.

Ash nods. “Yeah, I’ve seen it happen before. Guy gets a new girl, leaves his old friends behind. It’s sad times, man.” He puts a wine glass on the bar and pours the white wine.

Dean scoffs. “Not gonna happen.”

Ash holds his hands up. “Just callin’ it as I see it.” He takes Dean’s card and taps it on the machine. “You have a good night.”

When Dean gets back to the table, the girls are chatting about something or other, and Dean moves to sit at the stool next to Cas. He hits the edge of his glass against Cas’ half-full one, murmuring, “Cheers.”

Cas smiles grimly, but doesn’t say anything.

Dean sips at his beer to try to cover how uncomfortable he feels. “How come you guys are out on a school night?”

“Gilda just got a promotion at the hospital so we’re celebrating. I was with Charlie when she heard the news so I got dragged along.”

“Heh, anyone’d think you were becoming a regular around here.”

Cas grins, and Dean’s heart warms at the sight. He hasn’t seen Cas smile like that in a while.

They drink in companionable silence for a little while, until Dean speaks up to congratulate Gilda on her promotion. She tells them all about the new position, but soon enough Lisa comes over and leans close to Dean’s ear.

“We need to get going,” she murmurs.

Dean drains his beer as Lisa says goodbye to Charlie and Gilda. Dean is about to turn when Cas reaches out and puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and the world slows to a halt. A burning sensation spreads over his skin, crackling down his back. He turns to look at Cas and sees him gasp slightly, his eyes sparkling.

“Enjoy your meal,” Cas says, after a moment.

Dean nods, unable to form words, then turns to ruffle Charlie’s hair and wave to Gilda, before joining Lisa.

Gilda calls, “Have a good night, you two!”

Lisa waves as they head back out the door, into what has now become driving snow. Walking down the street suddenly doesn’t feel like such a great idea after all, but Dean’s blood is still on fire in his veins. He doesn’t feel the cold at all.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel smiles until Dean and Lisa are out the door, then he lets his face drop. “Oh Charlie. This is fucked up. I can’t do it.” He collapses onto the table, head on his arms.

“Oh hun, I’m sorry.” Charlie rubs his back consolingly. “If it wasn’t a school night I’d say let’s get drunk into oblivion. Stupid Valentine and his mid-week holiday.”

Gilda looks at her watch. “Crap, I’m due on shift in half an hour. Sorry Char, but I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

They share a little moment of kisses and whispers, and Castiel wants to sink into the floor. He’d hoped to avoid this stuff, and then Dean and Lisa had walked in with their smooches and long looks and Castiel’s insides had turned to ice.

But oh, the electricity when he had touched Dean’s shoulder just now… and the fire in Dean’s eyes as he’d turned to look at him, like he was about to eat him alive.

But then, he’d turned away and gone to dinner with Lisa, and hope left with him.

When Gilda has gone after a hug for Castiel, he parts ways with Charlie as well and heads home to try to keep misery at bay with the new season of _Magicians_.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean and Lisa finally order their meals and Dean eats his with a slightly uneasy feeling, as though it's going down wrong. It isn’t until Lisa gets up to visit the ladies and puts her hand on his shoulder in the exact same spot that Cas had earlier, that he realizes what’s wrong.

When she touches him, he feels nothing.

Cas’ touch had been like a lightning bolt racing down his spine, making his blood burn.

A lightbulb blinks on in Dean’s mind. It's Cas he wants - he hasn’t really stopped wanting him. The realization terrifies him, but makes the world around him snap into focus. What the hell is he doing? He’s been such an idiot.

Lisa comes back, and starts talking before even sitting down. Dean breathes slowly, trying to compose himself.

“So, Dean, I wanted to ask you something. Ben and I have enjoyed having you around - it’s been really nice. So um, I guess we were wondering if you’d consider moving in with us?”

Dean stares at Lisa. His brain takes a few moments to catch up with his ears. Did she just… no.

“Lisa…”

“No, hang on, I’ve thought of everything. You could save money by renting out your current place. I know it’s a little further from the school, but we could get another car so you wouldn’t have to drive your old Chevy every day…”

Dean is overcome with sadness at her enthusiasm. She wants him to become Ben’s replacement father, and there's no way he was ready for that, even if he hadn’t just realized his repressed feelings for one of his best friends.

He puts a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Lisa, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do… what?” she asks, confused.

“I can’t be that person for you - I’m sorry. I’ve come to a realization… very recently… that this isn’t me. I can’t do this.”

“It’s Castiel, isn’t it.”

Dean stares at her again. “Wh- what?”

There's fire in her eyes now as she says, “Come on, Dean. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. I thought that we were doing okay, that you had chosen me, chosen us. Ben loves you, Dean. Please don't let us down.”

Dean has trouble forming words, but manages to choke out, “N-no. No, it’s not him. We’re not… Look, I don’t want to let you down. And that’s why I can’t stay. I just want you guys to be happy, and I… don’t think I can give you that. I’m sorry.”

She looks shocked, then presses her lips together, as though she's trying to hold back. She gulps down her surprise and smiles bitterly. “No, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I thought we had something real.” She stands abruptly, putting the cloth napkin on the table.

“See you ‘round, Dean.” The anger and disappointment in her voice makes Dean cringe, but he can’t bring himself to say anything as she turns and storms away.

Dean stares until she heads into the bar area, feeling like a grade-A asshole. How has he been such an idiot all this time? And worse, he’s been unwittingly leading her on, thinking that he was having fun when she wanted something from him he can’t give.

He stays slumped at the table for a while, miserable. How is he going to face Ben at school tomorrow?

But Cas… How did Lisa already know about that? Was he that obvious? He felt the heat rising in his face as he thought of Cas’ touch at the Roadhouse earlier. He’d never seen Cas flirt with anyone else before, man or woman. He’s moderately affectionate with all their friends, once he knows them well enough to get over his nerves. He’s imagining that there’s meaning behind all the looks, the touches, isn’t he? He’s got to be.

He sighs. He’s been such a dick. He writes a quick message to Charlie.

 

Dean: Charlie, I’m an asshole.

Dean: Just broke up with Lisa

Dean: On v day.

Dean: :(

 

When he doesn’t hear back immediately, he gets up and pays for the meal. Might as well go home and drown his sorrows before he has to face the music at school tomorrow.

When he walks outside, the snow has stopped falling. The night is quiet, white and still. He heads for the Impala.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings are in the endnote for this chapter.

Castiel walks into the school building, heading for the staff room. He’s got just enough time to grab a coffee before class is due to begin.

He turns a corner in the corridor and slows to a stop when he sees Ben leaning against the wall outside a classroom. He looks tired and dejected, and despite Castiel’s sour taste from seeing Ben’s mom with Dean last night, he swallows the feeling and approaches Ben. He’s his teacher, first and foremost.

“Ben? Are you okay?”

Ben looks up, brightening when he sees Castiel. “Oh, Hi Mr Novak. Yeah, I’m okay, just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. My mom--”

He’s interrupted by a loud noise - the _Game of Thrones_ theme music, coming from Castiel’s pocket. “Oops. Better put that on silent,” he says with an embarrassed grin. “Would you excuse me a moment?”

Ben nods.

“Hello? This is Castiel.”

_Castiel? It’s Michael. Don’t hang up! It’s Mom._

Castiel stops his thumb from hitting the hang-up button, and slowly raises the phone back to his ear.

“Michael, what do you want from me?”

_Mom’s sick, Castiel. She’s had bowel cancer this last year, and she’s gone downhill, fast. God knows why, but she’s asking for you._

After Castiel stands silently for a few moments, Michael continues.

_I’m not asking you to come back to stay, just… come to see her? She’s at home._

Castiel sighs and rubs his forehead with thumb and finger. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hangs up, putting his phone back in his pocket to disguise the shaking in his hands. He looks up to the concerned eyes of Ben.

“I’m sorry. That was my brother. My mother… is unwell. I’ll have to go and see her today. I may be gone a while, depending on… how things go.”

Ben nods. “Okay. See you later, then.”

Castiel heads off toward the school office. Driving to Utah certainly hadn’t been in his plans for the day.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

At lunchtime, Dean eats alone in the cafeteria. Charlie has been stuck fixing some computer problem in the office, and none of the other teachers seem to be around. He doesn’t really mind eating alone though, since the hangover from last night’s whiskey is giving him a cracking headache.

He goes through his afternoon lessons in a daze, unable to get Cas out of his head. Now that he’s realised how he feels, he has a desperate urge to see him, talk to him.

By the end of the day, he's decided to at least see if Cas wants to have dinner with him again, or at least a drink. With any luck, Ben will have told Cas the details of last night so he would be spared that indignity. Such a chickenshit.

He rushes to the science lab and catches the last of Cas’ seventh grade class leaving. He sees Ben walking towards him, but can't avoid him - Ben's already seen him, and the kid looks almost as awkward as Dean feels.

“Hey, kiddo. You okay?”

“Hi, Mr Winchester. I'm okay, thanks.”

Dean hesitates for a moment. “I guess you heard about what happened with me and your mom?”

Ben nods, looking kind of sad, then he blurts, “But you can still come over to play Nintendo with me whenever you like.”

Dean can't help but smile. “Thanks Ben, but I'm not sure your mom really wants me in the house right now.”

Ben just looks down, his shoulders drooping. He looked up suddenly and asked, “Hey, is Mr Novak okay? You guys are friends, right?”

Dean blinks at him. “What d’you mean? Didn't you just have him in science?”

Ben shakes his head. “He wasn't there. This morning he was saying something about his mom being sick, and that he'd have to go visit her.”

“In Utah?” Dean’s pretty sure that it has been a long time since Cas had had anything to do with his family there.

Ben says, “She lives in Utah? Wow. I hope she's okay. He looked pretty worried.” He pauses for a moment, then continues, “Hey, I wrote something for him. Could you get it to him for me?”

Dean nods, taking the wad of folded pages from Ben after he had dug around in his bag for them. The whole package was taped together, with “Mr Novak” scrawled on the outside of the fold. “Okay. Thanks, Ben. I'll give it to him when I see him. Oh, and, uh… I'm sorry about what happened with your mom. I hope she's okay.”

Ben nods seriously. “I'll look after her,” he says, and heads off towards the front of the school.

Dean watches him go, a momentary sadness washing over him. Ben’s a good kid. He deserves better than all this crap.

If Cas isn’t here, there where is he? He chews on his lip as he pulls out his phone and calls him. Cas doesn't answer. He tries again, and waits to leave a message.

_This is my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail._

“Uh, hey Cas. It’s Dean… just heard something about your mom being unwell. Hope everything’s okay. Give me a call when you get this.”

He hangs up and tries Charlie instead as he’s walking out to the carpark.

_Dean? Are you still at school? I’m in the server room._

“Oh. I’ll come back in, I was just about to head out.”

He heads back towards the centre of the school building and finds Charlie coming out of the chilled server storage room.

“There you are,” she says, smiling, and hugs him quickly. “Just had to check something in here before I left. Are you okay? I’m sorry, I turned in kind of early last night. Didn’t see your messages until this morning.”

Dean shrugs. “I’m okay, considering that I just had a messy break up and apparently can’t find my other best friend.” _Who I also happen to be hopelessly attracted to._

“Who, Cas? He wasn’t here today? I’ve been busy.”

They turn and start to walk down the corridor, back towards the car park. Dean raises one eyebrow at Charlie. “I noticed. No, his mom’s not well, apparently. He’s going to visit her.”

“In Utah?” Charlie turns towards him, an urgent note to her voice.

“That’s what I said. Why, what’s wrong?”

“Dean, he hasn’t seen his family in over two years. They basically kicked him out after he was... “ She pauses. “I promised him I wouldn’t tell you this, but I really don’t think he should be going back there alone.”

“Tell me,” Dean says, alarmed.

Charlie sighs. “Okay, but you didn’t hear this from me. His family is part of some conservative church group. He was outed to the church as gay, and he lost his job at the Christian school he was at. He didn’t tell me exactly what happened, but he was really messed up at Christmas. He’s been really depressed.”

Dean stares at Charlie. There was only one part of that conversation he really heard. “Cas is gay?” he asks in a small voice.

“Dean, get a grip! He could be in trouble! Danger, even.”

Dean shakes himself and feels panic closing in. “What do we do? He’s not answering his phone! ”

“We’ll have to go after him. Just let me call Gilda.”

“What? Why d’you need to call her?”

“We’re supposed to be going out tonight.”

Dean frowns. “Didn’t you have to skip going out last night?”

Charlie looks up at him. “Well, yeah. But that’s okay, I’ll just--”

“No, no.” Dean shakes his head. “You two go out, don’t worry, I’ll go over to Cas’ place and see if he’s already left. Maybe there’s still time to stop him.”

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop him if it’s his mom, though.”

“I’ll go with him, then.” Dean says, firmly.

Charlie smiles at him. “Aw, I love you guys so much.” She reaches up to hug Dean again. “Good luck. And let me know what’s happening.”

“Thanks, kiddo. I will.”

They both wrap up warm and head out the door into the car park. Dean looks at Charlie in her huge Ravenclaw scarf and wooly hat. “You walking? I can give you a lift.”

After dropping Charlie at home, Dean guns the Impala the few blocks over to Cas’ apartment, eyeing the heavy grey clouds. He parks and heads up to the apartment building's main door, ringing the bell a few times, with no luck. He must have already left. Dean's gut churns with worry. That's a long way to drive on your own, especially with sick family at the other end.

Just as he's about to turn and leave, the door opens and a curly brunette head appears.

“Uh, hi. I'm Dean. You're Meg, right?” Dean blinks at her. “What're you doing here?

“I could ask you the same question. Hi, Dean.” She eyes him with distaste, the door still only half-open. “If you're looking for Castiel, he's not here.”

“He's already left then? How are you inside? Do you live here now or something?” Dean is wound up so tight he might break the first thing he touches.

“So many questions! No, I don't live here. He's not answering his phone, and I got worried. I happen to have a key,” she said, in a mock-sweet tone. Then, her voice got harder. She leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms. “My turn now. What do you mean, already left? Do you know where he is?”

“No! I mean, I don't know where he is right now. I couldn't get him on the phone either. Ben overhead something about his mother being sick, so he was going to visit her?”

The color drains from Meg's face. “His mother…? Michael…”

Dean eyes her with suspicion. “Meg? What do you know? Please tell me.”

Meg takes a deep breath. “How much do you know about his parents?”

“Well apparently I’m the last to find out everything around here. I just found out that they booted him for being gay because they’re religious, or some crap.”

Meg stands still for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “Let me get my stuff. I’ll tell you on the way.”

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean takes a hand off the wheel and holds it up. “Okay, wait wait wait. So you’re saying that he lost his last job because some asshole parents at the school found out he was gay?” They were driving along the I-70, part way across Kansas.

“Correct.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Isn’t it, just?”

Night has fallen, but because of the heavy clouds overhead, the only way to tell is that it’s slightly darker than it was before.

Dean lets the information sink in. Cas had been forced out of a job because they were afraid he’d behave inappropriately with one of the students. He murmurs, “And I basically accused him at Christmas, after Alastair asked me about Cas and Ben. The poor guy.” He shakes his head, the guilt weighing on him. He sighs. He’s been such an asshole. But Cas had refused to tell him anything. How was he to know?

Meg sighs. “Anyway, his parents hadn’t been happy with things before that, but when they found out that he’d lost his job, they were furious. See, they’re not just part of a conservative church. The Garrison is a religious community based near Greenwich, where we’re heading. Naomi and Charles Novak are members of the governing council.”

“The governing council? You make it sound like some dystopian thriller,” Dean chuckles.

“To be honest it’s not far off. The Garrison isn’t quite self-sufficient but they can cover most of their needs. They’re hardline evangelists who believe in every word of the Bible. Our childhood was sheltered to say the least. When they got wind of Castiel being gay, the council were furious, but couldn’t do anything because we were living in Salina, away from the commune. But once Castiel was unemployed, we had to give up the apartment and move back to the Garrison. We thought we had nowhere else to go.”

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel drives into the night, somewhere in the ski fields of Colorado. He’s glad the road has been cleared of snow, but with nothing to particularly distract him while driving, his mind wanders to the last time he was at the Garrison, and he wonders what he might find there now.

_“Castiel? Do you renounce your homosexual ways?”_

_“No, I--”_

_“You must renounce them, Castiel,” his father says. “God is forgiving, he’ll welcome you back to the flock.”_

_Castiel raises his tear-stained face to the image of Jesus hanging on the cross on the wall in front of him. He whispers, “I’m sorry.”_

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Meg takes a deep breath before continuing. “When we got back, they took Castiel. When he wouldn’t renounce homosexuality voluntarily, they locked him up and made him fast, or at least that’s what they called it. They were starving him, basically. They tried to pray him better, to cast out his demons or some bullshit. I don’t know if they physically tortured him. He's never told me about that time.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dean says quietly. “What about you? Were you punished?”

“Me?” Meg asks, surprised. “They had nothing to accuse me of, although you can imagine how much world-discovering the two of us had been doing away from the place. But I found it stifling, and not just because of the restrictions. My dad--” She breaks off abruptly, and takes a few breaths before continuing. “He was always a little heavy-handed with, uh… punishment.”

Dean glances at her, but only quickly - it has started to snow in big, fat flakes and he has to concentrate harder on staying in his lane. Her face is twisted in pain and she rubs her leg absently, but he doesn't say anything in case she stops telling the story.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

_Castiel is hungry. He’s so hungry that the sound of the door unlocking makes saliva appear in his mouth from some unknown place in his body - God knows his mouth has been dry for what feels like weeks. He looks up from where he’s sitting on a hard bedroll on the floor, his back against the wall. His mother enters the room, serene and untouchable as ever._

_“How are you feeling?” She puts down a plate of bread and a glass of water beside him. “Has God spoken?”_

_Castiel hangs his head. “No, Mother. I've been praying, but… nothing.” He falls on the bread, hungrily taking a bite and swallowing. He winces as his stomach gives a hard twist. The slice of bread isn't going to make much difference._

_When she doesn’t say anything, he looks up again to see her pursing her lips. “The council have been praying for you, Castiel. With God’s guidance, we’ve come up with a plan. You’ll marry Margaret, and between you you’ll be fruitful and multiply, as God intends for all his Garrison.”_

_“Margaret… you mean Meg?” Castiel isn’t sure he heard that right. They want him to marry Meg?_

_His mother's voice takes on a pleading tone. “Please, consider it! You’ve always been close - you’ll be happy together, and in time, God will forgive you and accept you back into the Garrison family. We’re the light in these dark times, Castiel. There’s nowhere else as safe and blessed as here.”_

_Castiel tries to gather his thoughts, but the emptiness in his gut is distracting. “Meg’s like my sister. I’ve never felt attracted to her in that way, and she would never agree to marry me.” The very idea of forcing Meg to be joined to him would have made him throw up, if he had anything in his stomach in the first place._

_“She will, and so will you. All you have to do is stay here and keep praying. It will happen, Castiel, whether you like it or not.”_

_“No, I won’t do it. I refuse!” He draws his knees up, putting his head down on his arms and realizing that his face is wet with tears._

_Castiel’s mother raises her voice, saying, “You can't refuse. Paul wrote that the_ _unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God. Lying with men is an abomination, and if you will not take a wife, then you are useless before God, Castiel!”_

_Castiel sobs into his arms, barely aware of her storming out. This is it - he’s going to die here, abandoned by his family, and by an indifferent God._

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Meg sighs. “I didn't know what to do. They wouldn’t let me in to see him, wouldn’t tell me anything about what they were doing to him. Eventually I couldn’t bear it. I broke in.”

Dean takes a bite out of a burrito they had stopped for somewhere on the outskirts of Denver. He asks through his mouthful, “Broke into the room he was locked in?”

Meg looks at him with disgust. “Lemme finish my dinner, then I’ll tell you the rest, ‘kay?”

Dean watches the snow flurrying down onto the well-salted highway running through the city. If this gets much heavier, they’re going to have to stop, especially before they hit mountains. He’s driven all night before, but not through a storm.

When Meg finishes eating, she balls up the foil wrapping and continues. “Yeah, I broke in. I’d worked out how to pick a lock long before that. That’s a whole other story. Anyway, it had only been something like eight days, but the poor guy was so weak. He tried to stand when he saw it was me, but he fell over again. He was babbling something about getting married, about how they were going to force us. I had no idea what he was talking about until later when he could explain. The council had decided that he and I would marry, to produce babies like good little sheep.”

“Getting married was going to fix his sexuality? Wow, that’s… that sucks.”

“Yup. I mean, I love Castiel, but I knew he would only ever be into guys. In no way would I agree to marry him and make the guy - hell, make us both miserable for the rest of our lives. Besides, it was all bullshit. By that stage I knew that no God was going to come to our rescue. So I stole what money I could from my old man and that I still had stashed from working while I was at college, grabbed Castiel and bolted.”

Just then, the snow starts coming down heavily and they see a car sliding around on the road ahead. “Fuck, I think we’re going to have to stop for the night. Damn it.”

They take an exit out the other side of the city and find a motel not too far away from the highway.

Dean checks in and returns to the car with two keys. “They only have one room available. You okay with sharing? I think it’s a little cold for sleeping in the car tonight.”

“I’m okay with it. Does your lady friend know that you’re driving around, sharing motel rooms with strange women?” Meg smirks.

“We, uh, broke up. It wasn’t pretty.” Dean starts the car again to drive over to their parking space in front of their room, the lines invisible under the snow.

“Aw, what a shame. You can tell me about it the rest of the way to Utah,” she says with a grin.

The inside of the room isn’t too awful, plaid bedspreads notwithstanding. Dean takes the first shower, realising that he hadn’t even gone home to grab a change of clothes before they headed out of town. He puts his dirty shirt and jeans back on, then sits on one bed, trying desperately not to fall asleep yet.

Meg comes back out, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. “At least the heating works all right in this place.” She sat on the other bed, pillow behind her back, leaning against the headboard. “Where were we?”

“Uh, escaping?” Dean asks, lying down on his back.

“Oh yeah, we ran. We ran to a friend of ours in Salina, but knew we couldn’t stay there. The Garrison knew where we had lived, they’d find us eventually, so we got in touch with a group who rehabilitates people who escape cults. They helped us to relocate to a safe house in Salt Lake City. After that, they helped me to find a college to finish off my studies in Kansas City, but the accommodation was just for one there. I really didn’t want to leave Clarence behind - he was in a bad way, even after he recovered physically. He was broken, you know? But he encouraged me to finish my studies, so I went. The hardest part was that they gave us new phones but told us it was best not to contact each other, in case the Garrison caught up with one of us. It was so, so hard. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Castiel. But we survived. And here we are.”

Dean lies quietly for a few moments, not sure what to say. He comes out with, “Wow.” _So eloquent, Mr English teacher._ But so many things he’s been wondering about Cas are now clicking into place. Why he never talks about his family or his old school, or his life back in Utah, hell, why he's nervous and flighty in crowds. The only thing it doesn't explain is why he turned Dean down back when he'd tried to kiss him. Or maybe Cas just isn't into him. The idea puts a sour taste in his mouth, and he frowns.

Meg packs her dirty clothes back into her bag and continues, “So yeah, now you understand why I don’t want him back there. Even if his mom’s on her death bed or whatever, the people there are crazy fuckers. Who knows what they’ll do. On top of that, Clarence isn’t exactly healthy himself right now.”

Dean looks over at her, intrigued. “Why d’you call him that?”

“What, Clarence? Because he’s my guardian angel.” Meg smiles, but Dean can see her eyes are glossy with tears.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch up with him,” he says.

Meg just laughs. “You just wait. Wait until you’re there, Deano.”

He falls asleep, unable to shake the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel pulls into the long driveway leading to his family home not long after midnight. He stops when he can see the house, sitting dark and quiet at the end of the drive. He turns off the ignition and sits in silence, watching the moonlight shining on the white snow.

He had left the snowstorm well behind, getting out of the mountains before it really started coming down. The night has cleared into a crisp stillness, at odds with the turmoil inside him.

What is he doing here? The last time he saw these people, they were basically torturing him into becoming something he’s not.

It's not like he hasn't tried, God knows he's tried to be attracted to women over the years since then. The Survivors organisation had got him work at a Gas’n’Sip just outside of Salt Lake City, while they searched for a teaching position for him. He'd gone on a couple of dates in those days, with women he supposed found him attractive, but it was no use. He couldn't let them touch him. Those were dark days.

And now, here he is. A part of him hopes that maybe, just maybe, if he can beg forgiveness from his mother, then perhaps God will also be able to forgive him.

A tear rolls down his cheek - not the first tonight.

There's nothing else for it. He pulls out his phone, ignoring the missed calls from Meg, Dean and Charlie. He calls Michael.

A tired voice sounds on the line, _Hello?_

Castiel takes a deep breath and pushes down the dread. “Michael? I'm here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning (in flashbacks):  
> \- Deprivation of liberty  
> \- Psychological torture and withholding of food
> 
> Just a small disclaimer: I have never driven from Kansas to Utah, neither do I live in a place where it snows. Please, if you think I've represented anything about the road trip incorrectly, let me know. And as always, thanks for reading :)


	15. Chapter 15

Michael meets Castiel at the front door, greeting him soberly with a nod. They have never been particularly close, even as children. Michael is several years older, and had moved away to study law when Castiel was barely at high school.

Castiel returns the nod and murmurs, “Michael. How is she?”

“Not great, but still with us.” Michael looks up the stairs. “She was awake not long ago. Do you want to see her now? I'm sure you've come a long way, you must be tired.”

Castiel is a little suspicious of his brother's hospitality. He hadn't expected this. “If she's awake, I'd like to see her.”

“Very well.” Michael leads the way up the stairs.

Castiel isn't sure what he expected, but the house hasn't changed a bit in the two years he's been gone. It's a strange mixture of nostalgic familiarity, and a strong sense of being an intruder.

Michael knocks on the master bedroom door, and Castiel can hear voices murmuring inside.

The door opens, and Hannah pops her head out. She spies him and does a huge double-take, a huge smile dawning on her face. “Castiel? What are you doing here?” She moved out of the doorway to hug him tightly.

Castiel fights to stop himself choking up. His sister has always been his ally in the family, and he's overwhelmed that she's so excited to see him.

A voice calls from the bedroom, “He's here because I asked him to come, that's why.” The voice is quiet and frail, but it's unmistakably his mother's.

Castiel freezes. He doesn't think he can go in there. He starts to breathe in small gasps, but Hannah takes his arm gently.

“It's okay, Castiel. Just come in and see her.”

He tries to calm his thoughts, imagining Meg with him, and Dean and Charlie on the other side, for strength. He lifts his head and walks through the door.

Naomi Novak is lying in bed, slightly propped up with pillows. She looks like a pale shadow of her former formidable self, and Castiel catches his breath as he takes in her thin frame and gaunt face. Why hadn't any of his family told him earlier that she was so unwell?

He approaches her carefully, scanning the room as he walks. No one else is in the room.

“Mother,” he says quietly, leaning down to kiss the papery skin of her cheek. Her head is bare, with wispy white strands where there was once auburn hair. He sits cautiously in a chair placed beside the bed.

His mother may look frail, but her eyes still hold a flinty gaze as she takes him in. She gives a small, wheezy cough into a handkerchief before speaking. “You look well. Did you just drive here from… where was it again?” She glances to Michael, standing near the door.

Castiel speaks up, despite the ache in his chest. “Kansas. Yes, the roads weren't so bad in the snow. How are you doing?”

“How does it look like I'm doing?” She coughs again, weakly.

Castiel winces and looks around again. “Where's father?” he asks, expecting her to say that he'd left the room to get some rest.

Naomi looks to Michael again. “You didn't tell him?” When Michael shakes his head, she sighs. “He had a heart attack some months ago. Not too long after you left us, in fact. He's gone, Castiel. I'm sorry.”

Castiel stares at her, the words not making any sense. Despite the way his parents and the Garrison community have treated him, he has loved them, over the years. For his father to be... gone... is like a blow to the chest, pushing all his air out. Tears sting his eyes.

“Oh, mother…” he gets out, but she continues.

“I'll be with him again soon. Castiel, I asked Michael to get you here because I wanted to tell you myself that we wronged you. We should never have treated you so harshly for your sins, and I'm sorry for that.”

Castiel pushes his shock at the news of his father to the back of his mind. He'll come back to that later. He puts his hand on her arm, horrified that she's bringing this up, but a small hope is growing in him that perhaps she might forgive him after all. “No, please don't concern yourself with that now…”

“No, you let me finish.” She glares at him, and then has to stop for her body to heave with rough, wracking coughs. Hannah comes over with a glass of water for her to sip on.

“Listen,” she croaks out, “we should have let you grow out of all that, with love and prayer. To let you see over time that your actions were wrong. We loved you, Castiel - we always will, and I want you to know that everything we did was for your own eternal soul. I just want you to be happy and safe in the arms of God. You've made your peace now with Him, haven't you?”

Something breaks within Castiel, and a tear rolls down his cheek. He has failed so many people, not least his own mother. And this isn’t forgiveness, it’s just reinforcement that God, and his family, will never embrace him the way he is. He wants to lie down and sob, but he takes a hitching breath and says, “Yes, mother, I'm trying. I'll try, for you.”

His mother holds her hand up to his face and wipes away the tear. “Oh, my baby boy. You always did have too much heart.” She starts to cough again, taking a while to catch her breath again. Her eyes squeeze shut in pain. Hannah comes forward again.

Castiel stands up and says, “I’ll let you get some rest.” He backs away, as his mother continues to cough.

Michael shuts the door behind him as he also leaves the room. “She’s been like this the last few nights. There’s an infection in her lungs.”

Castiel nods, wiping at his face, not trusting himself to speak without breaking down.

“Come on, I’ll show you to a room,” Michael says, leading him down the corridor and across to the eastern side of the house. They come to the door of his old bedroom. “Actually, would you like to stay in here? I’m not sure it’s set up for guests - let me check.”

Michael opens the door to reveal the same cold, featureless room that he grew up with. Castiel is reasonably sure that very little has been touched since he left it to go to the Garrison Hall for the last time. A single bed sits without bedsheets against one wall, and his old desk is still against the opposite side, under a crucifix hanging on the wall.

Castiel crosses to the window and looks out over the snowy front yard, wrapping his arms around himself. He feels as though he is holding all the pieces of himself together, and wishes fervently that he had told someone back in Lawrence where he was going. He hadn’t wanted company before, but now, he'd give anything for a hug from Charlie, for Dean to take him in his arms… No, it was better that he face this on his own, rather than drag anyone else into the train-wreck of his life.

He barely notices Michael return with linens for the bed. His brother bids him goodnight and leaves again. Castiel shuts the curtains and turns to face the room, finding himself staring up at the crucifix. But he can't bring himself to pray. Instead, he remembers his father, and his heart breaks all over again.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Sometime later during the night, Castiel wakes from his doze on the bed to hear some commotion elsewhere in the house. A little later he hears a car arrive, and that makes him get out of bed to investigate.

It’s the doctor, and not long afterwards, an ambulance. Naomi Novak has fallen asleep, and stopped breathing. She’s gone.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

The snowstorm clears Colorado overnight and the roads at the ski fields have been cleared by the time the Impala roars through.

Dean tries to look out the windows as they're driving past, keen to see the slopes at Vail, but there's not much to see from the road, even though the surrounding snowy mountains look breathtaking. Soon enough, they're back on a featureless interstate.

Meg turns to him after staring out the window for at least another hour. “So. Your lady friend. Ex-lady friend?”

Dean turns down the loud Blue Öyster Cult tape that’s playing, and gives her a side-eye. “Lisa?”

“Lisa. So what happened?”

Dean keeps his eyes ahead, reluctant to share.

Meg scoffs. “Come on, we've still got hours! Your turn to tell me a story.”

When Dean glances again, she's grinning expectantly at him.

He can't help but laugh. “There's not much to tell. We hooked up at the Roadhouse one night. Oh, the night you were there.”

“Yes. Yes I was.” She’s grinning again, and it gets under Dean's skin.

“What? I'm not allowed to meet girls at a bar? That's what I thought Cas was doing with you, anyway.”

“Did you?” Meg is definitely insinuating something, but Dean decides not to bite.

“Yeah. Anyway we had a great time for a few months, but I realised that she wanted more commitment than I was willing to give.” Dean has no idea why he’s sharing so much with this woman he barely knows, but what else is he gonna do on a fourteen-hour drive?

“Didn't like the school-mom lifestyle?”

“Not particularly. I mean, she just… assimilated me into her life. I had to go to all sorts of family dinners and things. I had the Christmas from hell.”

At that, Meg murmurs, “You're not the only one. “

Dean continues, “I just… can't give her what she wants.”

“So you just went along with it, for what? Funsies?” Meg sounds disgusted with him now.

“What? No, I just… It was just easier to keep going along with it than to hurt her by breaking up.”

“Oh, Dean. Inertia is the easiest, isn’t it? But sometimes you don’t get what you really want without a little push. Am I right?”

Dean gives her a hard look. “By hurting someone else in the process?”

“Sometimes, that’s what happens. But it’s better than sitting still and being miserable.”

“Well, either way, I couldn’t keep doing that to her, or myself.”

“Because you have feelings for someone else.”

Dean blinks. “What? No!” His face starts to heat up and he hopes it's not too visible.

Meg's response is surprisingly gentle. “Come on, Dean. You're driving across three states to make sure the guy's okay when his mom is sick.”

“He's my best friend!”

“He was mine first!” Meg counters, laughing. “Look, I would never have come on this crazy goose chase, but you looked like you were going to pass out back at his place. That, or cut someone.”

Dean has no idea what to say to that. Would Meg be on his side if he opened his heart to her? He has this strange feeling that he needs to gain her approval or something.

She keeps talking, regardless of his internal struggle. “All I'm saying is, it's a very loyal and selfless thing to do. I'm impressed.”

He glances at her. She looks serious. _What the hell, let's come clean_. “Look, yes, my feelings are more than… _platonic_ , whatever. But I tried that before and he wasn't interested, okay? I just wanna be there for Cas, when he's going through some shit.”

Meg pauses for a moment. “Cas. He ever ask you not to call him that?”

Dean glances at her in surprise. “Uh, no, I don't think so. Why would he?”

“I just wondered. The last person to call him that did him wrong.”

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

“Hey, Cas.” A warm, sympathetic voice comes from the doorway of the living room. Castiel's stomach turns to ice at the nickname.

He looks up at the newcomer, and blinks a few times. “Bart?”

He's been sitting in an armchair in the weak sunlight, nursing a cup of tea while mourning visitors come and go. He hates it - hates them all and their stupid pity. Earlier that morning there had been some kind of song-related vigil. It was heartbreaking, and it put his anxiety is at an all-time high - if one more person tells him that his mother is with God now, he might just scream.

Bartholomew comes towards him and perches on the edge of the sofa nearby, sadness in his pale eyes. “How are you doing?” he asks.

Castiel tries for a smile, but it doesn't quite engage. “I've been better.”

Bart nods. “I’m sorry for your loss, Cas. I really am.”

Castiel swallows down his rising panic and tries to take a deep breath. “Please… please don’t call me that.”

Bart looks surprised. “Okay, sorry. Have you been back at the Garrison long?”

“No, I… I just got word of Mom’s illness a couple of days ago. Just arrived last night before… well.” He swallows again, unable to continue.

Bart looks like he’s about to say something, but then Castiel’s phone vibrates loudly on the side table next to him. He glances at it, and sees Dean’s name on the screen.

Bart looks too, then back at Castiel. “Are you going to answer that?”

“No, it’s just one of my friends from home. I… can’t speak to them right now.” He hadn’t been able to even send messages to any of his friends, even Meg. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to explain everything to them.

Bart raises one eyebrow. “These friends of yours… Are they God-fearing people?”

Castiel nearly chokes. “What?”

“Where were you all this time, Cas? We looked for you everywhere. I was so worried. I just wanted you to be safe…” Bart reaches out a hand to touch Castiel’s on the arm of the chair.

Castiel snatches his hand away. How dare he…? “No. Bart, I… How could you just walk in here and ask me that like you’re asking me the fucking time?” Bart flinches at his language, but doesn’t interrupt, so Castiel continues, trying to keep his voice down but putting every ounce of his anger into it. “After everything that you did... I had to run from here, hide for years - I only just found out that my own fucking father died eighteen months ago and I didn’t even know about it! And it’s all your fault, Bart!”

“Oh, Cas, I’m so sorry,” Bart says, just as Castiel collapses. All of the pent-up worry and sorrow from the last twenty-four hours crashes down on him, and he has no choice but to slump forward, clutching at the tight pain in his chest.

Bart leans forward and pulls him into a hug. Castiel sobs against Bart’s chest, unable to move, but momentarily grateful for the warm arms around him.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean stared over the slushy puddles of melting snow at the Victorian farmhouse. There are cars all over the place, coming and going along the driveway. He wonders what’s going on down there, and hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with Cas.

“That’s it,” Meg says. “That’s the house. Now turn around, we’re going back to Salina.”

“What?”

“No way in hell I’m going in there, Sunshine. I’m just gonna hang with my buddy in town until you’ve sorted things out here.”

“You’re just gonna bail on me? You’re the one who knows these people!” Dean can’t believe that Meg would just walk away like this, after driving all this way.

“No fucking way! Crazy people, remember? They’d lock me up as soon as look at me, especially looking like this.” She waves a hand at the blue streak in her hair, then down at her boots. “And if my old man's there…no way. ”

Dean sees a look of fear flash across her face. “All right then. Thanks for getting me this far, I guess.”

“You never would have found this place without me. Now let’s go back and I’ll show you the road to Salina.”

Meg’s friend Balthazar is part of the society that helped her and Cas escape the Garrison, and he's overjoyed to see her. They head off to catch up, and Dean drives back, feeling nervous and alone.

Nearly two hours later, Dean’s back at the driveway to the Novak house in Greenwich.

He drives up to the house and parks next to a few other cars on a gravel area, spotting Cas’ hatchback closest to the house. At least he’s in the right place.

He wonders again what all these cars are doing here - surely the family doesn’t own all of them. There seems to be a party of some sort going on, but as he nears the front door, it doesn’t sound particularly raucous. He walks through the open front door into the front entry, and is admiring the wooden floors and the staircase going up to the second level when a man appears from the end of the corridor ahead. He’s dressed well in a button-down business shirt and slacks, and suddenly Dean feels underdressed in his second-day jeans and flannel under his jacket.

“Hello, can I help you there?” the man says, his pale blue eyes warm.

“Uh, hi. I’m looking for Cas- Castiel Novak. Is he here?”

“Yes, he is, but he’s resting right now. Can I ask who you are?”

“Dean. Uh, Dean Winchester. I’m a friend of his?”

The man’s eyes narrow fractionally and the warmth leaves them. “Oh, what a shame,” he says. “You drove all this way from... where, exactly?”

“Lawrence, Kansas. Been driving all day, actually,” Dean admits with a grin. Might as well try to get the guy back on-side.

“I see. Well, I’m afraid the family is in mourning at the moment. They’ve just lost their matriarch.”

Dean’s stomach drops and sadness sweeps over him. Castiel’s mom has passed away? He wonders if Cas made it in time to say goodbye.

Before he can say anything else, the man continues. “Also, Castiel mentioned he specifically didn’t want to speak to any of his friends from Kansas. So I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Dean’s blood turns to ice in his veins. Something’s wrong here - that doesn’t sound like Cas. “Couldn’t I just speak to him for a moment?” he pleads, looking up the staircase again.

“I’m afraid not. Now if you wouldn’t mind stepping this way?” The man grabs Dean’s shoulder and Dean allows the guy to turn him and lead him back to the front door.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” says the man, and then shuts the front door in Dean’s face.

Dean stares at the door for a moment, bewildered. He turns slowly, about to head back to the car, when he remembers what Meg had said to him, earlier on the road. _Sometimes you don’t get what you really want without a little push._

He goes to the Impala, then returns to the front door and knocks on it, hard.

The man in the slacks opens the door, looking down his nose at Dean. “I’m sorry, was I unclear?”

Dean forces himself to stay calm and not clock this asshole in the jaw. “Look, I dunno what your problem is with me, but could you please just give this to Cas? It’s important.” He holds out the folded-up paper Ben had given him.

The man takes it with a look of distaste, but just before he shuts the door again, Dean shoves his boot into it to stop it. “Mind sharing your name with me, buddy?”

The man looks at him like he’s scum on the bottom of his shoe. “Bartholomew,” he says.

Dean steps back and Bart closes the door with a loud click. So, that’s the fuck-knuckle, Bart. He desperately hopes that Cas is okay, and that he finds the hastily scribbled note that Dean wrote and shoved inside Ben’s pages before he left Salina. He thanks every deity he can think of that he thought to do that.

He wonders what the chances are that Cas really said he didn’t want to talk to any of his friends. He’s in mourning, so who knows what condition the guy is in. He desperately doesn’t want to leave him here, alone, but Bart’s not giving him a lot of choice.

He fires up his Baby and heads back to pick up Meg, his heart heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry <3 But we're nearly there.


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel arrives at the Garrison Hall with Hannah, well before the service is due to start. Michael is already there, looking like he owns the place. He's probably been organizing the whole affair for months. Castiel wonders if he'll take his mother's place at the governing council. He's fairly sure it's something people are invited to, rather than elected.

Gabriel, Castiel’s other older brother, is also here, standing to one side, looking bored. He moves forward as he sees them come in.

Hannah is looking pale and drawn, but she keeps one comforting hand on Castiel’s back as they approach the front of the hall. They both briefly embrace Michael, then Gabriel.

“When did you get here, Gabriel?” Hannah asks with a sad smile.

“Not long ago. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier.” He turns to Castiel. “Hey bro. Long time no see.”

Castiel is happy to see Gabe. Like Michael, he and Gabriel haven’t always been close, but Meg told him later that Gabe was one of the few to speak out against the Garrison’s treatment of him.

“Gabriel. Did you have to come far this morning?”

“Las Vegas, actually. It’s a few hours’ drive from here.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “Las Vegas?”

“Uh huh. I work in one of the high-stakes casinos. I’ve gotta thank you, Castiel. After your, uh… disappearance, I realized I didn’t want to hang around here like a good little member of the flock. I think you’ll find that quite a number of these sheep re-evaluated their lives after your little drama.”

Castiel stares at Gabe as he smirks, unable to form words himself. Before he can collect himself to reply, Michael takes hold of his elbow and turns him.

“We're to sit here in the front row,” Michael explains, indicating the row of chairs.

Castiel nervously adjusts his tie, then his borrowed suit jacket. The jacket fits all right across his shoulders, but the trousers are tight across the thighs, so he tries to hitch them up as he sits down and only makes himself feel self-conscious on top of uncomfortable. Gabe sits on one side of him, Hannah on the other.

As the congregation starts to file in, they come up to offer their condolences to Castiel and his family. Castiel tries to be gracious and thank people for coming, but he’s seething that these were the same people who gasped, even scorned him when Bart revealed their affair. Some of them smile at him, but the more people who he speaks to, the less he can stand their pity and their hollow words.

Someone puts a hand on his shoulder from behind him. “Stay strong, Cas,” Bart says, and Castiel’s insides turn to ice. He stops himself from flinching away through supreme effort, but ignores the man behind him. Bart sits down in the row behind with Hannah’s husband, Joe, and Castiel feels like he’s been effectively caged in once again. His breathing starts to quicken and he can’t seem to slow it, but Hannah puts a hand on his arm.

“Castiel. Breathe.” Castiel turns to look at Hannah and finds understanding in her kind eyes. “It’ll be over soon. Just… breathe.”

Castiel murmurs his thanks and turns his eyes front as Pastor Stull gets up to address the crowd.

The service isn’t long, but Castiel sits through it in a sort of daze. Funerals in the Garrison are usually a celebratory affair - after all, the dearly departed is now in heaven with God. The service was an upbeat celebration of Naomi’s life, with plenty of singing and praying.

Listening to the pastor talk about Naomi’s love for the church and the community, Castiel has trouble recognizing the woman he knew. She hadn’t been unloving, but strict, even cold at times. He knows that her treatment of him came from a deep belief that she could cure him of his “preferences”, and he finds it hard to believe that any of these smiling, family-oriented people would force anyone to be miserable to fit their ideals. But that’s exactly what they try to do. It’s disturbing.

When the service ends, the whole congregation shuffles outside the Hall and across the road to the cemetery. Castiel watches his mother’s coffin being lowered into the earth, and feels strangely empty. His parents were lost to him years ago.

Castiel spends as little time as possible accepting condolences and hugs before he escapes to the field beside the cemetery, breathing deep to try to calm his frayed nerves. There are cows grazing peacefully nearby, and they lift their heads to see if he's brought them food.

“Castiel?”

A tentative voice comes from behind him, and he silently curses before turning around to see who it is. A young man, possibly eighteen, stands there. He’s slim, with blond hair and an earnest face.

“Hello,” Castiel says tentatively. He doesn’t recognise this man.

The man smiles. “You don’t remember me. I was probably a lot shorter the last time I saw you. I’m Samandriel.”

Castiel’s eyes widen as he takes in his cousin, now grown up. He remembers that he preferred to go by his middle name. “Alfie?”

“Oh, you do remember! How’re you doing out here?”

Castiel tries to recall when he had last seen Alfie. His family didn’t live here around Greenwich - they were part of another church community over on the north side of Utah somewhere. They had visited Castiel’s family one Christmas after Castiel had started teaching at the school in Salina. Castiel had got chatting with Alfie, and recognised a bright young mind in the teen. Before Alfie and his family had gone home, he had smuggled Alfie a copy of _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , a highly contraband item within the Garrison. At the time, Alfie had stared at him in wonder, and Castiel had hoped he wouldn't run straight to his parents. He hadn't seen the kid again since then, but had hoped he was okay.

Castiel smiles weakly and shrugs. “I'm okay, I think. I don’t think I’ve seen you since the _Harry Potter_ incident. How’d that go for you?”

“Oh, I took a belting for that one after my dad found it.”

“Oh, Alfie, I’m so sorry.”

A cold wind rushes across the field, making them pull their coats closer, but Alfie continues, “No, don’t be sorry. I came out here to thank you for doing that for me. I loved that story, Castiel. It opened my eyes, showed me what community and friendships could really be like. And you showed me that I didn’t always have to follow the rules, that things that my family considered sinful were actually pretty amazing.”

Castiel listens, his eyes wide. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Alfie continues, “When I heard that you had escaped, I knew that I couldn’t let them tell me how to live, to deny me the things I loved. I started going to the library in town. I read everything I could get my hands on. And then....” Alfie stops for a moment and looks around, furtively. He continues, quieter, “Then I started to write. I write poetry.” He looks panicked for a moment. “Please, please don’t tell my parents - they don’t know. But when I move away from there for college, I’m going to try and get some published.” He smiles, nervously.

“That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you.” A warm glow fills Castiel at the thought that what he has gone through might have helped someone else.

A thought occurs to him. “Hey, I have a friend who teaches English. If you wanted someone to look over your work, I’m sure he’d be willing. He’s trustworthy,” he adds when he sees panic race across Alfie’s face. “Have a think about it, and if you want to, write down your email address for me. I’ll be in touch, okay?”

He momentarily wonders what Dean is doing now. He hasn’t spoken to Dean or anyone since he left Lawrence. The calls and texts have stopped coming… or maybe that was because he’s stopped carrying his phone around with him. He isn’t even sure where it is right now. He’d have to find it when he got back to the house, and call home.

Alfie still doesn’t look convinced, but just then, Bart arrives from behind the trees bordering the field. “Cas? There you are. People are looking for you.”

Alfie mutters, “Thanks, Castiel. See you,” and vanishes back to where the mourners are crossing back to the Hall.

Castiel levels a cool glare at Bart. “I asked you not to call me that.”

Bart frowns. “Sorry, old habits die hard. What’re you doing around here, anyway? Was Alfie bothering you?”

“No, he was just making sure I was all right. Let’s go.” Castiel moves to follow Alfie, but Bart grabs his sleeve, holding him back.

“Wait just a moment. I wanted to ask you something.”

Castiel stops, pulling his arm away from Bart. “What is it, Bartholomew?”

“Cas… Castiel, I, uh, wanted to apologize for what happened back then, when I spoke at the, um…”

He stalls, but Castiel remains silent, raising one eyebrow. Let him work for this.

“...when I hurt you,” Bart finishes, lamely. “I shouldn’t have said anything in worship, I just… freaked out. But I have missed you so much, Cas. Please, let me start over. Can we be friends again?”

What the hell did Bart think he was doing? How dare he? How can he just come here and apologize, like he didn’t destroy Castiel’s life in the first place?

Castiel attempts to tamp down his anger and respond reasonably. “No. No, I don’t think so, Bart. Not after what we went through, and what you did. I was confused, lost… I thought you loved me. I guess not.”

“No, Cas. I did what I did _because_ I loved you. I wanted you… wanted us to be healed of our problems.”

Castiel can’t hold it in any longer. “It’s not a problem, Bart! It’s the way you and I are made. We can’t change that, any more than we can fly. So stop with your apologies. I won’t hear it!”

“Please, Cas…”

“Stop using that name!” Castiel stares Bart down.

Bart flinches, but doesn’t back away. “You allow your friends in Lawrence to call you that,” he says, with venom.

“In… How do you…?” Castiel gapes, mentally flicking through the last few days. He was sure he’d been careful not to tell anyone where he was living.

“Your friend, who drives the old Chevy. I sent him away, since you said you didn’t want to speak to any of them. I’m trying to help you here, Castiel!”

Castiel stares at Bart. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “Dean… was here?” he says, his voice suddenly hoarse.

“Yes, he was here. You don’t need those people any more. You’ve got family, friends here who know you, who love you!”

“You sent him away?” Castiel’s voice rose again. “He drove all the way from Kansas and you made him leave?! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dean had followed him here, and Castiel hasn’t answered or even read any of the messages he'd sent. He’s been such an idiot. He even thought he had heard the Impala’s rumble at one stage when he’d been asleep, but had dismissed it as a dream. He aches that Dean was right there at the house and he didn’t even know.

Bart tries to recover. “I… I thought you said… “

“No. I would never have turned him away. What did he say?”

“He… he left a note.”

“What? Where is it?”

“I threw it out.”

“You…” Castiel takes a few deep breaths.

“It’s in the kindling basket in the living room, with the newspapers. You don’t need him anymore, Castiel. Forget him. Come back into the fold. God will forgive you.”

“Bart,” Castiel says, drawing himself up and looking him hard in the eye, “you are a fucking asshole, you know that? Just stay the hell away from me and my life.” He turns abruptly and walks away before he does something he’ll regret, like punching Bart’s stupid face in.

“Castiel? I hope you and that fag have a nice time in hell.”

Castiel is not a fighter, but something inside him snaps at that. He rushes back and pushes Bart full in the chest. Bart stumbles, falling backwards hard on his butt. He lifts one hand in disgust - he's put it perfectly in a cow pie, and now it's covered in a sticky muck.

Castiel gasps out a laugh, saying, “We’ll see you there.”

He turns, leaving a sputtering and cursing Bart behind him.

Back at the front of the Garrison Hall, food has been served and people are chatting happily, standing around in the thin sunshine. He wanders around looking for Hannah, avoiding anyone who looks like they might talk to him. He sees Hannah standing near the door of the hall, but she pushes him away from the building when he comes over to her. She looks paler than she did even that morning.

“Castiel! You've got to get out of here. Have you seen Bart? He and the pastor and Michael are looking for you. I'm not sure what they've got planned but I don't like it.”

“I saw Bart. He’s… round the back. What could they possibly…”

“Ahh, there you are, Castiel.” Pastor Stull’s dull voice cuts him off mid-sentence. “Would you mind coming into the hall? I wanted to ask you something.”

Castiel looked back at Hannah with alarm. She stared at him, wide-eyed, but then pressed something cold into his hand - her car keys. Castiel felt a rush of warmth for his big sister, and gave her a small, thankful grin before turning back to the pastor. He could see Michael standing behind him, in the doorway.

“Actually,” Castiel says, mercifully managing to sound more confident than he feels, “I won't be going anywhere with you. I left your flock long ago, and I won't be coming back.”

“Castiel, I promised your mother I'd look after your soul. Please let me help you?” Castiel is surprised that the pastor looks at him with pity, rather than anger.

His heart aches at the thought of going against his mother's wishes one more time, but he straightens his spine and shakes his head.

“I'm sorry. Thanks for your concern, but my soul is just fine. Goodbye.”

He turns to smile at Hannah one more time, trying to pour his thanks into the look. He hopes she won’t get in trouble for doing this.

Then, he walks away from them all, towards the parking lot. He's expecting someone to grab him from behind the whole way, to drag him back and lock him up again, but it doesn't happen, and it's the hardest thing he's ever done not to turn around to check.

He drives the two miles back to the Novak house in Hannah’s car, furious. He's furious at Bart for being a dick, and at himself for nearly letting Bart ruin his life again. He's furious at Michael and his mother for believing that they were helping him by forcing him to deny his own self. He's furious at Dean for coming all this way and then letting Bart make him leave again. What the hell was he thinking? How did he even find the place?

Perhaps most of all, he's furious with God. He mutters as he drives, “I hope you're listening, God, because I'm done with your shit. You'd better accept me the way I am, because I've tried changing, and it's not happening. I give up trying to make my peace with you, because you've never given me any reason to make it worth my while. So there.” He feels marginally better after that outburst.

When he reaches the house he goes straight to the living room, digging through the basket near the fireplace. Under the newspaper, he finds a bundle of paper stuck together with tape, with “Mr Novak” written on one side. Interesting. Dean had brought this?

He heads upstairs, grateful that warmer weather has meant they haven't lit a fire the last couple of nights. In his room, he shucks off the suit in favour of more comfortable jeans and a green shirt. He sits on the bed, breaking open the tape on the paper. Inside are several folded pages, but when he unfolds them, a smaller folded sheet of notepaper falls out. He puts that to one side and opens the larger sheets. It’s a handwritten letter from Ben, plus a bunch of printed sheets.

> _Dear Mr Novak,_
> 
> _I’m sorry that your mom is sick. I hope she’s feeling better, but if you’re taking time off, I thought you might like to read the story I’ve written for Mr Winchester’s next story competition. I wrote it for you, to say thanks for all the help you’ve given me this year. Thank you. I hope you like it._
> 
> _-Ben_

 

The typed pages are the story, and Castiel smiles at the gesture. That’s twice in one day he’s been thanked for making a difference in someone’s life. Better not get used to it. He puts the story aside for now and picks up the other note. Castiel takes a sharp breath as he realizes it’s from Dean, in his tidy scrawl.

> _Cas,_
> 
> _I’m writing this on my way to catch up with you in Utah. I don’t know whether you will ever read it, if it will be necessary, but if you are reading it then it probably means they wouldn’t let me talk to you. Meg showed me how to get to the Garrison, but she’s not coming there with me now. I’ve left her in Salina with your weird friend, Balthazar (what is it with you guys and weird names?!)._
> 
> _I guess I just need you to know that we’re worried about you, that we care about you. I would have come with you for support if you needed it. Now that Meg has told me a little more of your story (please don’t be mad at her), a lot of things make sense._
> 
> _I’m not with Lisa anymore, and I know you’ve had a difficult time lately. I’m sorry I haven’t been around when you needed a friend. If you let me be there for you, Cas, I promise I’ll never stop. I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you, I never meant to._
> 
> _-Dean_

  
Castiel holds the letter to his chest and just stares into space for a few moments. Did he just... ? For all his talk of communication, it felt like a lot had been left out of Dean’s letter. A warmth flushes through him as he realizes that Dean has broken up with Lisa. Why would Dean tell him that if he didn’t…? He can’t help the smile that blooms on his face, replaced just as suddenly with a frown as he remembers how Bart must have taken this letter and told Dean to go back home.

He hunts around the room for his phone, trying to think when he last had it. Eventually he finds it in a dirty pair of jeans, the battery completely flat.

No time to waste now. He jumps off the bed and starts gathering up his things. He’ll leave Hannah's keys in the kitchen - he hopes she'll be okay, and that he’ll see her again, but for now, he’s got a long drive ahead.


	17. Chapter 17

Dean sits at his desk, staring at the bright sky out the window. His class works at their essays, quietly for the most part. He's had to give them something to work on. His brain just isn't able to engage with anything.

He still hasn't heard from Cas, and it's been days. He'd been so angry with Bart on Friday that he'd let Meg and Balthazar talk him into drinking away his troubles at some seedy bar in Salina. The next morning had been rough, and it had taken a few cups of coffee and a mountain of bacon before he felt up to driving.

He hates that Meg had needed to get home. He would have stayed as long as it took to convince Cas to see him, and he wishes now that he'd put her on a bus. Instead, he'd left Cas to fend for himself and driven all the way back to Lawrence in mostly silence.

Meg's stories keep swirling around in his head, and his stupid overactive imagination is coming up with all sorts of ways that his family could be brainwashing him, locking him up, torturing him…

Charlie had been more pragmatic when he'd caught up with her on Sunday afternoon. “He's just lost his mother,” she had said. “Even if they weren't exactly talking, he's hurting. Let him have his space.”

He hates space. He just wants to gather Cas up in his arms and take him far away.

Dean hears a giggle from the back of the room, and looks up sharply. “Settle down back there. Lucy, are you finished with your work?”

Silence from the peanut gallery. Dean goes back to staring out the window.

Before he can get too lost in thought again, there's a knock on the door. He stands and crosses to open it, but not before he sees blue eyes and a shock of dark hair peeking through the window next to the door.

 _Cas_.

He turns to the class, butterflies clamouring in his stomach. “Carry on.” He opens the door, closing it quietly behind him, then looks the science teacher over. He looks rough, bone-weary, his eyes bloodshot and trench coat rumpled. He's the most gorgeous thing Dean has ever laid eyes on.

“Cas,” he breathes. “Are you okay? We were worried, we--”

Castiel grabs him by the forearms and silences him with a kiss. It's firm, but over in an instant, and when they break apart, all Dean can do is stand for a moment, gaping. There seems to be fireworks going off in his brain. He blinks at Cas a few times.

Panic floods onto Cas’ face. “I'm sorry, I read your letter and I thought--”

Dean grabs him by the front of his coat and pulls him in, pressing their lips together hungrily. Cas brings one hand up to the back of Dean's neck, and lets out a contented noise that sends sparks down Dean's spine.

Cas presses himself closer, and Dean is about to spin the guy around and push him against the classroom door, when he becomes aware of an “Ooooooh!” coming from behind him. He pulls back and turns to see the faces of most of his class at the window, grinning and cheering.

“Oi, get back to your desks!” he calls, grinning. Turning back to Cas, he presses their foreheads together and sighs.

“I'm sorry to interrupt,” Cas smiles. “I just couldn't wait.”

“I'm glad you didn't.” Dean runs his thumb lightly across Cas’ cheek. “Where will you be later?”

“I'm going home. I've been driving all night.” He looks sheepish and Dean laughs quietly in wonder.

“I'll see you there, then.” He presses one more kiss to Cas’ lips and turns back to the classroom, trying not to beam from ear to ear. He can see the class looking hopefully at the door, waiting for him. This is gonna be awkward.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Castiel turns away from the classroom door after Dean closes it and floats away along the corridor. He's having trouble believing that just happened. He'd actually just kissed Dean and not been struck down by lightning or worse, been rejected by him.

He'd been making pacts with God all the way back in the car, when he felt he was already putting his life into the creator's hands by driving along icy roads in the mountains in the middle of the night. He'd give up anything - _anything_ \- just to be happy with Dean, even as a friend. In the end he had come to the decision that a forgiving God would never prevent him from loving someone he chose to. He'd just have to worry about the “lying with a man” part later.

And now, without really intending to, he had kissed Dean. He was just going to ask him to meet him after school since his phone was still dead, but when he'd been there, looking so happy to see him, his brain had disengaged and he'd just _gone for it_. And Dean had kissed him back!

He's still wandering along the corridor, lost in his euphoria, when he almost runs into someone. He stops to apologize and realises with a start that it's the principal, Mr Shurley. His stomach backflips - he's been terrified to talk to him every since starting at the school.

Mr Shurley smiles. “Welcome back, Castiel. I hope your mother is recovering well?”

“Uh, actually, no. She passed away late last week,” Castiel says, edging away awkwardly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You're back already?”

“I… had to come back to see a friend. I might not come back to work for a few days though, if that's all right.”

“Of course, I'm sure bereavement leave will cover you. Actually, since you're here, could I talk with you about something?”

A feeling of dread starts to creep through Castiel. “Uh, sure. What can I do for you?”

“Just come to my office for a moment? Won't take long.”

Castiel follows the shorter man around a corner towards the administration area, and into his office. His heart is hammering like a freight train and he can feel the edges of a panic attack coming on, so he tries to take a few slow breaths as Mr Shurley closes the office door behind him. The room is small, with kids’ drawings stuck on the walls and a large desk in the middle of the room.

“Please, sit.” Mr Shurley indicates a second chair near the desk as he sits down as well. “After you left last week, I was visited by Alastair Black.”

Castiel draws a breath sharply and tries desperately not to pass out. The walls of the small office are already contracting.

Mr Shurley continues, “He said that he had seen you a number of times with Ben Braeden, and so I--”

Castiel jumps back to his feet, interrupting. “No, sir. I can assure you that I would never do anything to harm Ben, I was merely helping him after he asked me to.”

The principal stares at Castiel for a few moments, before he continues, “...which is what Ben told me when I asked him. Also, please, call me Chuck. You're not in trouble, Castiel. Far from it.”

Castiel's heart may now have actually stopped. “Oh,” he says, as soon as his brain has connected with his mouth again. He sits down again, embarrassed.

“The other teachers vouched for your integrity and compassion yesterday, especially Dean Winchester.” Chuck smiles. “So thanks for going above and beyond. We need more teachers like you.”

Castiel isn't sure what to say. He settles for, “Thanks, sir.”

“Chuck, please. As for Alastair, he hasn't actually done anything wrong, but I've asked him not to spread rumours without checking the facts himself first. Is that acceptable to you?”

Castiel nods, as a slow smile blooms on his face. He had expected the worst, and hearing the best, he feels light as air.

He leaves Chuck's office and pinches himself hard, just to make sure he isn't dreaming.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean nervously rings the buzzer at Cas’ apartment block. He runs his hand through his hair for the tenth time, before muttering, “Fuck, get it together, man.”

His feet had barely touched the ground all afternoon, ducking home just long enough to shower, change, then drop quick texts to Charlie and Meg saying the same thing: “Cas is back”. He had ignored their replies as he drove over here.

Footsteps on the stairs inside make him jump, as Cas comes to the door. He opens it, smiling. He's wearing old jeans and the blue sweater that Dean loves, and his eyes shine like stars.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean is having trouble containing his excitement, but attempts to stay calm. “Hey, Cas. How are you doing there?”

Cas shrugs one shoulder. “I feel a little better. I got some sleep. Glad you're here though.” He smiles shyly, holding the door open for Dean. They start upstairs, Cas leading the way.

When they get to the top floor and into the apartment, Dean takes the place in. It's small, but neat, with boxes in the hall creating a temporary feeling, like it hasn't been lived in long.

Dean walks into the living room and sits on the plush couch in front of the TV, where the photo with Charlie must have been taken. The corner couch is wide and extends along two walls, long enough for an adult to lie along it, which, judging by the blankets and pillows arranged around it, Cas must do regularly.

When Cas comes in with two beers, he bustles around, tidying away the blanket and pillows to one end of the couch, then sits down as well. The space between them burns, and Dean longs to lunge across and plant one on Cas, but Cas is holding back for some reason. Is he regretting this morning already? Dean raises his bottle to Cas, then takes a swig of his beer, wondering where to begin.

“So, uh, Meg filled me in on the way out there, about what happened with you and Bart and your family. Is it true?”

Cas swallows his mouthful of beer, glancing at Dean, then away again. “She has no reason to lie to you, especially if she was worried about me. Dean, I’m so sorry. You drove all that way, and I didn’t even know you were there. Bart never gave me your letter. I didn’t even read it until after the funeral, when he told me that…” he pauses, breathing fast.

“Cas, stop. It’s okay-- well it’s not okay, because that guy’s an asshole, but I wanted to be there. Especially when I heard about your mom. I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.”

Castiel nods. “Thank you. But obviously, I hadn’t spoken to her for some time. I thought she wanted me there to apologize to me, and she did, but she wanted to make sure I had ‘made peace with God’ before she died.” He makes air quotes with his fingers as he speaks bitterly, and Dean’s heart aches for him.

“And by making peace she means…?”

“To come back to the flock, becoming a good little sheep, being fruitful and multiplying, yes.” Cas sighs heavily. “Basically giving up my sexuality. I’ve been trying for years to try to do that, to change, but I can’t be something I’m not, you know? I need to make peace with myself the way I am, more than with God.”

Dean is momentarily speechless. He listens as Cas tells him about the funeral, about Bart’s confrontation, and he laughs so hard when Cas tells him about the cow shit that he nearly falls off the couch.

Later, they order a pizza and eat sitting next to each other around one corner of the dining table. Dean tells Cas about Lisa and her invitation for him to move in with her. “I think Ben is amazing, and I was enjoying being friends with Lisa, but I couldn’t stay with her when she was expecting so much from me. Not to mention the fact that I…” he stops himself before he went any further, his eyes flicking up to Cas.

“That you what?” Cas asks, curious.

“Nothing. Anyway we broke up on Wednesday, at dinner.” He winces at the memory of Lisa storming out.

“At Valentine’s Day dinner? Wow. I’m no romantic, but that’s low,” Castiel chuckles. “Was Ben okay? I hope he’s not hurting too much.”

Dean looks at Cas fondly. “See? Always so caring. One of the things I love about you, Cas.”

Cas looks at him, eyes wide. “One of the… you…?” He’s turning an interesting shade of red, and words seem to be failing him.

Dean pauses for a moment. He can’t bear it - he needs to know. He asks gently, “Cas? Why aren't you kissing me? Like you did earlier?”

Cas blinks at him, then his gaze returns to the table and he clears his throat, recovering. “I, uh, wanted to make sure that you still actually wanted that, before I made an idiot of myself again.”

Dean reaches over and lifts Cas’ chin so that they are eye to eye. “Cas, I want that more than anything right now. I have for months.”

Cas draws a sharp breath and hope blossoms in his eyes.

Dean moves his hand to the side of Cas’ face and leans forward so their lips brush together. Sparks fly, and Castiel leans forward, deepening the kiss.

Cas lets a small moan escape, and the sound sends heat right through Dean. They break apart, and Cas gasps as Dean starts placing kisses down one side of his neck.

Cas stands up and takes Dean’s hand, leading him over to the couch. He pushes Dean to sit down and sits astride his lap, facing him, then leans forward to capture his mouth again. Dean runs his hands along Cas’ spine, and Cas arches his back into it like a cat. Dean stares up at him. _So fucking hot_ … He reaches up, snagging his fingers in Cas’ hair. Cas lets out a cry that sears Dean’s blood.

Dean says breathily, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Cas just smiles and kisses him again, hungrily.

Dean moves his hands down again, slipping his fingers under the hem of Cas’ sweater, running his fingertips over the soft skin underneath. When Dean gets bolder and tries tucking a hand into the back of Cas’ jeans, Cas gasps. Grabbing Dean’s hand, he moves it away from his back, then gets up, retreating a few feet. Breathing heavily, he says, “I’m sorry. I just… don’t think I can go that far yet.”

Dean hadn’t intended to push so quickly, but actually being with Cas was short-circuiting his brain. He’d have to tread more carefully or Cas would do his disappearing act again. “It’s okay, I'm sorry. I’m here for you, Cas. Take as long as you need.”

Cas nods and shuffles back over, tucking himself under Dean’s arm. They trade lingering kisses for a while, and Dean is so content he might actually burst.

Dean's phone buzzes, and this time, he actually digs it out of his pocket to look at it. He ignores the dozen missed calls from both Meg and Charlie, and instead opens a message window from Charlie.

   Charlie: What the hell is going on Winchester? I heard from Kevin that some of his students saw you and Cas KISSING in the corridor?

   Charlie: TALK TO ME MAN!

   Charlie: !!!

He shows Cas and they both laugh. Dean snaps a picture of the two of them, heads together, then Cas turns his head to kiss Dean on the cheek and Dean snaps another. That's the picture he sends to Charlie.

In return, she sends a whole five rows of heart-eyes emoji.


	18. Epilogue

Castiel wakes up to bright sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains. He rolls away from the offending window and snuggles into his boyfriend’s back.

Dean gives a muffled grumble and burrows his head deeper into the pillow he’s hugging. Castiel grins and resists pinching himself as he’s done on each of the fourteen mornings since he moved in. He’s really here, in bed with Dean, it’s Saturday, and he’s happy. Honestly, truly happy.

He has almost drifted back off when Dean wakes up with a start. “Whassa time?” he mumbles, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand. He flops back into the pillow with a groan.

Castiel tries hard not to open his eyes. “I’m stay here,” he gets out, but Dean rolls over and is gently kissing him awake before he can protest further.

“C’mon, Sunshine. We promised Charlie we’d help.” Dean runs a hand lightly down Castiel’s side, and fire follows.

“Don’t start that, or I won’t let you leave the bed,” Castiel chuckles, reaching up to thread his fingers through Dean’s hair and pull him down for another kiss.

Dean smiles, disentangling himself and getting out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

An hour later, they leave the house and drive over to Charlie’s in bright May sunshine. School’s out for summer, and Charlie has finally put the finishing touches on her backyard, completing the renovations to the house. Castiel and Dean have been over there helping, of course, and today, Charlie is finally going to have the party she’s waited so long to have.

They knock on the front door, then let themselves in when there's no answer.

“Charlie?” Dean calls, wandering over to the kitchen door. He looks back at Castiel. “No one home?”

A shuffling comes from the bedrooms at the back and a rumpled red head peeks around a door frame. “Dean?” Charlie yawns. “What time is it?”

Castiel laughs. “Come on, Charlie, it's ten thirty! You wanted to get started early, remember?”

Dean puts his hand on Castiel's shoulder and gently nudges him towards the kitchen. “We'll just be in here while you get sorted.”

Still chuckling, Dean and Castiel make coffee and go through the list of party food and drink Charlie has left on the table.

Castiel picks up their empty cups and takes them to the sink. “What time did you say Sam and Eileen were arriving?”

Dean checks the time on his phone. “Pretty sure he said the flight arrives at three, and Mom’s going to pick him up. They should be here by five, I’d say.”

Charlie appears and yawns her way through a coffee before she’s willing to start anything. Gilda isn’t much better, but at least she disappears to the store to get the fresh things they’d need to feed an army of visitors. She hasn’t moved in with Charlie yet, but Dean and Cas agree it’s only a matter of time before she does.

Under Charlie’s direction, the boys hang lanterns and lights outside in the trees, and shuffle as many chairs and tables as they can fit into the cozy grassed area.

“How many are you expecting again, exactly?” Castiel asks, eyeing the stacks of plastic chairs.

“Stop worrying, Cas. We’ll have plenty of room.” Charlie bustles about, setting up a sound system.

“I’m not worried. I just feel like we’re going to have enough seats for most of Lawrence to come,” he mutters to Dean as they set the chairs out around the yard.

Dean just grins and rubs Castiel’s back. “It’ll be fine.”

As Benny, Garth, and other teachers from school begin to arrive, Castiel tries to remind himself that he’s going to know most of the people here. There’s no reason to feel nervous. He fusses over what he’s wearing for the tenth time, until Dean catches his hand to stop him from pulling the arms of his sweater down again.

At around five, as expected, Sam, Eileen and Mary arrive. Castiel hangs back as Dean and Charlie greet them and show them around the inside of the house, but as they’re about to move through to the bedrooms for a look, Mary spots Castiel. “There he is! How are you, Cas?” she says, and pulls him in for a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. He’s a little overwhelmed, but also accepts hugs from Sam (who nearly crushes him) and Eileen (who nearly squeezes the breath out of him). He runs to hide in the backyard after that, drinking a beer with Garth to calm himself down.

He’s nearly undone, though, when at about seven, just after they’ve served all the finger food for dinner, a group of six or seven of Charlie’s friends from her LARP group show up. They make a great show of bowing to her and laugh as they bow to each other, then they get stuck into the food and drink.

Castiel sits with Dean as he’s chatting with a couple of the LARPers, and he marvels at how easily Dean makes conversation. Cas wouldn’t have the first idea what to say, and he suddenly feels isolated, even though he’s here surrounded by all these people.

He stands abruptly, grabs a couple of empty serving platters from a nearby table, and heads back into the house. Might as well try to make himself useful.

The kitchen is mercifully empty when he gets in there, and he slumps against the counter, pulling out his phone. There’s a message there from an unknown number, and he opens it curiously.

   [19:50] Hi Castiel, it’s Alfie here. Hannah gave me your number, I hope that’s okay. I have some writing ready, if your friend is still willing to take a look at it? Thanks! - Alfie

Castiel sighs, happy that he’s finally heard from Alfie. He’s been hoping fervently that more of the Garrison’s congregation might follow their dreams outside of the confines of their strict faith. He’s considered offering his help to the organization that helped him and Meg after their escape, but that would mean talking to people, and he’s not sure he’s really cut out for that. He fires off a reply to Alfie, then starts to clean up some of the dirty dishes in the sink while considering hiding in a cupboard rather than going back outside.

 

~~ ◆ ~~

 

Dean sits with Eileen as she tells him all about their upcoming wedding plans. He’s still wondering how his moose-sized brother has ended up with such a beautiful and capable lady, when he realizes he hasn’t seen Cas for a little while. He had just taken some of the empty plates back inside, hadn’t he? He excuses himself and goes wandering around the garden, looking for him. Cas had been a lot better with crowds since he got back from Utah, but Dean knows he still gets nervous. He hadn’t missed the shake in Cas’ hands when Charlie’s LARP friends had arrived, and he’d even looked worried when Sam had shown up.

Dean finds Castiel cleaning up some of the mess in the kitchen.

“Hey, Cas. Whatcha doing in here? You disappeared ages ago.”

Cas looks tired and drawn. Dean takes the serving platter out of his hands, and puts it back on the counter. He turns Cas by the shoulder so they’re facing each other and ducks his head down until Cas has no choice but to look him in the eye. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I just don’t belong here. I think I might go home.” Cas looks back down at the floor again.

“What? No, Cas, listen to me. You belong here just as much as anyone else - more, even. Those people out there, they’re our friends, our family! They want you here as much as I do.”

Cas looks up at him with hope in his eyes, but he still doesn’t look convinced.

Dean sighs. “Just give it fifteen minutes. Stay with me for that long, and if you still want to leave after that, we’ll go. I know you’re worried, but Cas? I’m here for you, okay?”

Castiel lets out a breath in a whoosh and leans forward to rest his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Dean places a kiss on his temple, then pulls him into an embrace. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

Castiel lets out a long sigh and Dean feels him relax. “What would I do without you, Dean?”

“Probably sit around and watch a lot more Netflix,” Dean replies with a smile.

Castiel chuckles. “Come on then, let’s get it over with.”

Dean takes one of Cas’ hands and leads him back out to the yard where the party is in full swing. There are groups of people around the yard, under the shining lanterns and glittering fairy lights.

“Castiel!” A call from the side of the house draws Dean’s attention. Meg walks across the grass in precarious heels and skinny jeans, grinning at he and Cas like the Cheshire Cat, then holds out her arms for Cas to pick her up in a hug. She murmurs something in his ear and pulls back to look him in the eye, and he nods. She turns to Dean.

“Hi, Meg,” he says, pulling her into a hug as well. “How’s the new job?”

“Busy. Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier. I hope you’ve been looking after my boy, here?”

“Of course,” Dean says, smiling.

“Good. What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?” She wanders off to find one, saying hi to Garth as she goes. Cas takes Dean’s hand again and says, “Come on, let’s find a seat.”

Charlie lets out a cheer as Dean and Cas approach, beckoning Cas over to where she sits on a stool, so she can put her arm around his middle. She puts a bottle of beer in his hand and drunkenly says to Benny, “‘d I tell you that Cas here shingle-handedly built my kitshhhen? He’s a fuckin’ genius!”

Cas laughs. “What? No, no I didn’t. You definitely did most of it.”

“Nawww, shhh. You’re my favorite bestie.”

Dean feels he needs to jump in at this point. “Hey!” He swipes at the back of her head.

“Awwww, come ‘ere.” She grabs both of them in a hug around their waists. Dean shares an amused glance with Cas over her head, and he’s struck by the realization that his entire world is inside this garden tonight. His family, his friends, his love. He pulls Cas over for a gentle kiss, before Charlie lets them go.

She jumps up and grabs hold of Dean's arm, forcing him to hold still while she climbs up on a chair (thankfully not the stool). “Thank you, handmaiden,” she says to Dean before turning to the party. She raises her voice. “Quiet, everyone! Your queen wishes to dress you. A-ddressh you!” she corrects herself. Someone lets out a loud whistle to get everyone's attention. “Thank you. I just wanted to say, thank you for coming and warming up my house for me. And to my Dean and Cas for doing most of the work!”

There are laughs all around, and Dean notices Cas smiling at him. He gives him a wink and turns back to Charlie.

“You're all the best friends I could ask for - no, you're my family. Thankshh for being here.”

The crowd lets out a few awws and sniffles.

“To family!” Charlie shouts, raising her beer.

“To family!” the partygoers repeat, and there are cheers all around.

Dean puts his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pulls him in for a kiss on the cheek. Cas slides his arm around Dean's back, making a delightful shiver run up his spine where Cas’ hand brushes. He rests his head on Dean's shoulder.

No one ever said that the road to happiness is paved smooth. But just for tonight, everything is just right in Lawrence, Kansas.

THE END

~~ ◆ ~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, we made it!
> 
> A big thank you to _you_ for reading all the way to the end, and to those who have commented along the way. You make me so happy  <3
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, [feel free to subscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz) to get more stories in your inbox, [or you can come flail at me on Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ellen-of-oz)
> 
> And finally, a big thanks to Bryan Adams for song title inspiration and a song that has been stuck in my head for weeks now xD


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